The Shape Things Are In
by ObsessedRomantic
Summary: Third in the Townwood Exit AU, sequel to 'The Aftermath'. Time to register for senior year as Taylor meets more of Ryan's family and things get more interesting. SS, RT.
1. Sandy

Sandy opened the door to his home slowly, tiredly. It wasn't really the drive that had exhausted him, it was the events preceding. _I don't want to disappoint you, or the boys_. Kirsten's words had echoed in his head all the way back. The lawyer in him had wanted to argue with her, protest; but the loving husband told her to take all the time she needed, despite how much he missed her. However much he wanted her home, he knew better than to force the issue, to drag her back before she was ready. Now he just had to break the news to the boys and hope it wouldn't depress Seth or push Ryan back down into his angry depression.

''Guys?'' He'd seen the Rover in the drive, he'd thought they were home. The den was empty and the kitchen….the kitchen was clean, the sinks empty and sparkling. He rested a hand on the island, thinking that it was going to be hard to break the news after the boys had gone to all this trouble. The pool house was dark, but the blinds were up, so the boys weren't asleep. He could see from the kitchen window that there were no lights on in his son's room, either; so definitely no Seth/Ryan time happening. Where were they, then, that they hadn't taken the car? He was turning to grab the phone when he saw the note on the fridge. Pulling it down, he read the short message as he took his bag into his bedroom.

_Dad (and hopefully, Mom), _

_We found out we were out of food when we cleaned the kitchen, so we went shopping. We'll be home for Sunday dinner, don't worry, and hey, Ryan has a surprise for you. It's a good one, too. To quote The Nana, you'll' plotz.'_

_Love, _

_Seth _

Sandy sat the bag on the bed, wondering if he could handle any more surprises. Ryan's last one, about the fighting (and he **knew** there'd been more than fighting going on, he just prayed there weren't drugs) had been nearly too much for him to handle. Especially on top of finding out about Hailey; he was still trying to deal with **that** little shocker. He'd just tossed his coat on the bed, wondering if he had the energy to unpack, when he heard the front door open. Here we go, he thought. Walking towards the foyer, he heard something that slowed his steps, something he hadn't heard in nearly six months. Laughter. Not just Seth's laughter, or Summer's lighter giggling (which seemed to have an echo). **Ryan's** laughter.

From the hallway, he could see the boys and Summer all holding grocery bags, accompanied by a girl with auburn hair, holding her own share of bags. She stood about Summer's height, wearing jeans and a polo shirt, and was smiling at Ryan with a teasing air. He was encouraged to see his foster son was smiling back as he closed the door with one foot. He decided to watch for a little while, enjoying **this** surprise immensely.

''I'm just saying, if you wanted something with more carrying space, a Thunderbird wasn't your best choice.'' Ryan was obviously trying to make a point to the girl.

''Not to mention that back seat was designed for anorexic midgets.'' Seth complained, stretching his neck as the teens trouped to the kitchen. ''You two aren't gonna have much fun in that shoebox of a ….ow!'' Summer had just kicked him on the back of the shin and Sandy couldn't help but grin. That girl certainly had his son handled. He lost a bit of the conversation as he moved (very 'stealth', as his son would say) quietly through the living room. He liked the good mood, wanted to revel in it a bit more before he had to ruin it with his news.

''…..you said you liked the car, you agreed it was 'hot'.'' The strange girl was saying, as the four unpacked the groceries. Seth and Summer were putting away the dry goods, leaving Ryan to load the refrigerator and the new teen to lay out what was obviously dinner supplies. They were going to cook? Sandy wasn't sure if he was more afraid or shocked.

''And you are.'' Ryan didn't catch his verbal slip, but the other three exchanged significant looks. His foster son continued to put the food away, unaware of the other's reactions. ''I just think buying a car because you liked how it looked in a movie is a little weird.''

''Okay, first off, it wasn't just a **movie**, it was a **James Bond** movie, with Pierce.'' The girl came around the island and planted herself in the boy's way. She leaned back against the fridge so Ryan would have to look at her. ''Secondly, **I'm** a little weird, so what's the diff? And third…..'' She smiled, poked a finger into Ryan's chest teasingly. ''Keep 'dissing' my car and I won't let you drive it.'' She flounced back around the island and Sandy was tickled to see the blonde boy's gaze following her raptly. Which meant he saw his foster father standing just beyond the doorway. Busted, he thought, and stepped resignedly into the doorway so the others could see him.

''Hey, Sandy.'' The boy sounded unsurprised to see him. Not so his son.

''Dad!'' Seth twitched in shock, then arched his head to look behind his father eagerly. ''Mom?''

''Could you excuse us a minute, ladies?'' Sandy motioned the boys to the living room. ''Guys?''

''Oh, crap.'' Seth muttered. Summer hugged him supportively and his son slumped out of the kitchen.

''I could…..'' The other girl reached to pick up her purse.

''No, it's okay.'' Ryan touched her hand and the two shared a look he wasn't even going to try and interpret. Not right now, anyway.

''We'll just finish putting the food away, Mr. Cohen.'' Summer said quietly, eyes sympathetic as his foster son joined his brother in the living room.

''Thanks Summer. I'll meet you later, young lady, all right?'' He smiled as best he was able at the other girl and turned to go crush his boys' spirits. Seth was sitting on the couch, usually animated face rigid. He looked much as he had the afternoon of the intervention, stiff and uncharacteristically still. Ryan was standing, looking out the French doors to the pool. Sandy was honestly more worried about him than his own son. Seth was a naturally expressive young man, someone who wasn't capable of **not** letting everyone know how he was feeling. Ryan …..Ryan had a tendency to bottle things up until he either exploded or self-destructed and Sandy didn't like where that particular road was headed. Promise or not, he knew the guy would keep things to himself as long as he possibly could. Before he could start laying out the situation, the source of most of his concern spoke softly into the tense atmosphere.

''She's not coming back, is she?'' The boy stated more than asked. Seth sucked in a sharp, fearful breath and immediately started to protest.

''Dad! Tomorrow's registration! Mom doesn't want to miss **that**, does she? Did you **try**? Did you tell her she **has** to come home? We could have a crisis. I'm sure we could come up with some problem only Mom could….'' Afraid his son would work himself into a panic attack, and not liking the way his foster son's back was tensing, fists clenching; he decided to try and explain.

''If we push her at this point, son, we may make this harder than it should be.'' Sandy tried to soothe him.

''And if we **don't** push, we may never see her again.'' Seth snapped at him, eyes wide with fear and desperate worry. He felt a tightening in his gut, facing his son's lack of understanding. I miss her too, he wanted to shout, I want her back just as much. But his boys needed his support right now, not his lonely anger and guilt. He took a deep breath, getting himself under control. ''Did she say **why**?'' There was true pleading in the younger Cohen's voice, a longing for understanding and some kind of hope.

''She said she wasn't ready.'' He felt like he was confessing to a murder, not trying to explain to his two sons why he hadn't been able to convince his wife to come home. ''She said she didn't want to fail us.''

''That's bullshit.'' Ryan whirled to face them, fists white and eyes blazing blue fury. Sandy looked at his expression and felt his concern flare into full-blown worry. The mix of guilt, anger, grief, and desperation wasn't anything he wanted to see on that face. No matter how familiar it was from seeing it on his own, every morning in the bathroom mirror.

''Ryan….'' He started, stepping forward. He didn't reach out, touching his foster son in this state was something he'd learned **not** to do the first month in.

''She didn't fail us, we failed her.'' The blonde boy snapped out. He turned away, yanking open the French door. He slammed it so hard on his way out to the patio the glass cracked.

''Dammit.'' The older man was reaching for the door, when his son's voice stopped his progress.

''Dad, wait.'' Seth came over, grabbing his arm. He was being tugged towards the kitchen. ''Come on, we can watch from in here.''

''Watch what?'' Sandy saw, as his son dragged him along, that the strange girl was missing from the room and Summer was peering out the kitchen window. Oh, God, she was out there alone with Ryan? In this mood? He was starting to think maybe he needed to worry about his son's sanity.

''A miracle, Dad.'' Seth went over and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, smiling confidently. ''Just watch.''

Drawn in by the absolute certainty in his son's voice, he stepped up beside them and looked out the window. As he suspected, Ryan was headed towards the pool house. The girl with the auburn hair, however, was preventing him from reaching what Seth had called a 'Fortress of Solitude'. The young man would step left, and she'd move to block him; doing the same when he stepped right. From the rigid line to Ryan's back, he could tell that his foster son was about to lose his temper. He couldn't help the gasp when he saw the boy grip her by the shoulders. He tried to move towards the kitchen doors, but his son shook his head and pointed back out the window.

Afraid of what he might see, he looked back outside ….and blinked in shock. Ryan hadn't shoved her aside or pushed her away and, from the calm look on her face as she gazed at him; the boy's grip wasn't painful. As Sandy watched, he rested his forehead against the girl's, sighing. A little of the tension drained out of him, the shoulders sagged a bit. The older man wished he could hear what his foster son was saying, what the girl told him in response. She moved forward, wrapping her arms around Ryan's ribs and resting her head against his chest.

''Oh, she's **good**.'' Summer commented admiringly, sighing contentedly when Ryan put his arms around the strange girl's shoulders, holding her close to him. One hand cupped the back of her head as he dropped a kiss on top of it.

''Who **is** that girl?'' Sandy asked in wonder, turning his head towards the two next to him. He hadn't even known his foster son was seeing anyone and he wasn't sure the younger man was ready for another relationship. Not so soon after the disaster the last one was, and how badly it had ended.

''That, father of mine, is Taylor Townsend.'' Seth declared. ''The new light of his life and miracle worker supreme.'' He released Summer from his grip, shrugging. ''He met her Friday night.''

''Friday night?'' Sandy turned to face his son more fully, now even more concerned. Too soon, too fast, his gut was telling him. ''How did….wait, Townsend? As in **Veronica** Townsend?'' As in the woman who tried to keep Ryan out of Harbor that first year, his brain went on. The one who led the charge in the Oliver incident and almost got him expelled. That Townsend? He felt like going back out and starting this night over, the idea was so surreal. Leave them alone for two days and you miss everything, he told himself wryly.

''You shouldn't hold it against her, Mr. Cohen.'' Summer told him, still watching out the window and smiling approvingly. ''She's really very…..oh, crud, here they come.'' She turned away quickly, looking desperately around the room. ''Quick, look busy.''

''Doing what?'' Seth asked, quite reasonably, Sandy thought, as the kitchen door opened. The two other teens came in; Taylor regarding them all serenely and Ryan looking a little embarrassed, but good. He re-evaluated his concerns a bit. Maybe this was a good thing? He'd thought so when he'd heard the laughter, why should he change his mind when she talks him out of a fit of rage? Or because of who she was related to? He shook his head, trying to settle his thoughts. ''Hey, guys, we were just…..uhm…''Seth trailed off, at a loss for a believable excuse.

''Talking about us.'' Taylor stated, matter-of-factly, moving around the island and stretching a hand across towards the older man. She didn't look a thing like her mother, a sharp faced woman that Kirsten (who didn't have an unkind word to say about either Taryn or Julie, for crying out loud) had once called a barracuda. This girl was brisk, a little forceful; but her eyes were sparkling at him in a friendly manner, and her smile was sincere. ''Taylor Townsend, Mr. Cohen, pleased to meet you.''

''Likewise, young lady.'' He shook her hand, seeing his foster son's nervous look out of the corner of his eye. Ryan relaxed at the friendly tone in his voice. From the reaction, he knew that the she was a new girlfriend and not just some girl the boy was seeing. He only got nervous about introducing the girls he was serious about. ''But please, call me Sandy.''

''Oh, I couldn't'' Taylor blushed. She nervously started moving the dinner supplies around the island.

''Oh, go on, I just call him Mr. Cohen because it's kind of a nickname." Summer encouraged her. ''If you're going to cook for someone, you should be on at **least** a first name basis, you know.''

''You don't have to cook, we told you.'' Seth protested, reaching for the take-out drawer. ''We can order….ow!'' He rubbed his hand where his girlfriend had slapped him. Sandy hid a smile.

''And I told **you**, Seth, that you've eaten **far** too much take-out lately.'' Taylor crossed her arms at both boys, who looked at their father for support. Sandy was suddenly, forcibly, reminded of Kirsten. He looked over at the girl with new eyes. If she was **anything** like his wife, and she looked like she might be, Ryan had his work cut out for him. ''I can tell by your eyes.''

''Don't look at me.'' Sandy chuckled. ''As long as there's bagels and schmear in there, '' he motioned to the fridge ''….I'm a happy man.''

''You go ahead and sit down, Mr. Co … Sandy.'' Taylor ducked her head shyly as she corrected herself. ''We'll get things started.''

She gave Seth and Summer vegetables to chop, grinding up spices and mixing up sauces; directing Ryan to roll out the dough. Sandy was entertained by her manner; half-teasing flirt and half-drill sergeant. His taller son kept shooting him questioning looks, motioning towards Taylor and his brother. He gave him a brief nod, deciding that he would go with his first, positive, impression instead of his neurotic concerns over the speed at which the two were moving into a relationship. What did he have to be concerned about? He'd fallen for his wife in a fifteen minute conversation over coffee, and they were the only couple in Newport where neither one had ever been divorced. Quicker than he'd thought possible, the homemade pizza was secure in the oven and the four kids joined him at the kitchen table. Seth and Summer sat to his left, heads bent over a notebook, trading whispers. Ryan and Taylor sat to his right, looking nervous.

''Sorry about the door, Sandy.'' Ryan apologized, trying to look him in the face. The boy rubbed his hands together nervously, shifting in his seat. ''I can fix it.''

''It's okay, son.'' Sandy assured him, grinning a bit. He couldn't resist teasing him a little. ''I prefer a cracked door to you hitting people.''

''Oh my god.'' Taylor gasped, hand going to her mouth. From the excited look to her face, and the confused look Ryan was giving her; Sandy knew she wasn't surprised to hear about his foster son hitting people. She looked like she had an idea, hazel eyes twinkling enthusiastically. ''That's it, that's what you should do when you're angry!''

''You want me to hit people.'' Ryan sounded disbelieving, and Sandy was proud to hear the note of reluctance in his voice, as well.

''No, of **course** not.'' Taylor met his eyes and Sandy grinned, suddenly getting where she was going. He could've kicked himself, it was so damn obvious, really. His previous concerns about her seemed trivial and unimportant. Ryan was a very mature young man, and this girl was impressing him with her responsibility and cheerful attitude.

''Hit some**thing**, not some**one**.'' He explained to the younger man.

''Somehow, Dad, I don't think hitting a pillow is going to cut it for Kid Chino.'' Seth commented without looking up from his sketching.

''Thanks, son, but a pillow isn't what I had in mind.'' Sandy smiled, leaning back in his chair comfortably. He was liking this girl more and more. ''I think there's one in the back of the garage, we can check after dinner.'' He watched Ryan's profile as he put it together.

''Oh for…'' The blonde boy groaned, putting his head in his hands. ''I must've moved the thing a dozen times, too, setting up for parties.''

''What?'' Seth finally looked up, curious eyes roving from one to the other. ''What is it? A body? Dad, we have a **body** in the garage?'' Summer smacked him on the arm before he could go any farther.

''Ew, Cohen, buy a clue, would you? It's a punching bag.'' She leaned her head affectionately against the shoulder where she'd hit his son. Sandy hid another smile, seeing the doting expression on Seth's face as he looked down at the top of her head.

''I used to be quite the contender, you know.'' He joked, making a boxing pose as the teens snickered at him. He started exchanging barbs with his son about the Cohen inability to fight, at least physically. Taylor was watching with fascinated, envious eyes and he remembered what her mother was like. He made a mental note to let Ryan know the girl was welcome anytime she wanted to stop by. Summer was just explaining about the Cotillion disaster when the phone rang.

''I got it.'' Ryan stood, touching Taylor on the shoulder in passing as he retrieved the phone. The girl smiled softly to herself, expression affectionate.

''Anyway, if you want to hear about a more successful Newport party fight, you should ask Ryan. I think he holds the record for most people punched …..'' Seth's ramble was cut off by his brother's loud and aggressive tone.

''…what do **you** want? …….…. I've heard that before ……….I don't care …..….. why should I? ……….'' His jaw clenched as the person on the other end of the line continued talking.

''Marissa.'' Even though she'd whispered, Ryan's gaze shot around to Taylor's face and he nodded, face tight.

''…..I don't ……yeah, she's here…….I'll ask…….I **said**, I'll ask, all right?...'' He pushed the mute button, looking like he wanted to throw the phone into the pool. ''She wants to talk to Summer.'' He whispered, voice still tense and angry. ''She said she wants to apologize.'' He lifted his eyes to meet Summer's and the girl nodded. No one spoke as she came around the table, taking the phone from him and going into the living room. Sandy wanted to say something, anything to make the moment easier; but he couldn't help but marvel at the girl's ability to ruin things for Ryan when she wasn't even present. The boy stood, once more tense and stiff; leaning on his fists and glaring out the kitchen window.

''She just wanted to apologize.'' Summer said from the doorway, twisting the phone around in her hands. She was staring at Taylor with an uncertain expression. ''She said that she was sorry for all the stuff she's been doing, said she finally got her head on straight.'' There was a snort of bitter disbelief from the young man standing at the kitchen sink . ''She said that it will take a lot of work on her part, but she just wanted a chance to make things right.'' The brunette placed the phone gently back in it's cradle, still looking uncomfortably at Taylor.

''That's good, then.'' Taylor stood, snagging a pair of oven mitts off the island. ''Good that she's going to make a go of her senior year.'' Her voice was upbeat and energetic, but Sandy detected a tiny quiver to her words. She was worried, probably about Ryan, he thought. He was worried himself; the Cooper girl had always seemed to have an amazing ability to get back into his foster son's good graces. Which he thought would be the **worst** thing in the world for them both.

''It's not like we could avoid her forever, dude, and if she's really changed….'' Seth didn't sound sure, but he was looking more at Summer than Ryan. Taylor hugged the other girl briefly before opening the door to check the pizza. Summer's face was desperately hopeful.

''I'm not saying we should hang or anything, Atwood, but she really sounded different. It's **possible** she's better, right?'' She **wants** to believe it, Sandy thought, but she doesn't really buy it. Not completely.

''Stranger things have happened.'' Taylor said, placing the oven mitts next to the stove and stepping over to stare out the window next to Ryan. Sandy held his breath as the boy turned his head to look at the girl. Ryan reached over and tucked a strand of auburn hair behind one ear.

''Good things.'' He murmured. The two stared into each other's eyes for a long moment and Sandy suddenly realized what it must be like for people to watch him interact with his wife. Don't go planning the wedding yet, he scolded his inner Nana; they still have to get through high school. And survive Marissa, his paranoid side warned.

''She's not gonna try and get you back, Atwood. I mean, really; ego much?'' Summer was saying, looking like she hoped it was true.

''Yeah. She plays for the Xena team now, right? We should be more worried about her going after Taylor.'' Seth grinned triumphantly as Ryan burst out laughing. Sandy smiled at his son, patting him on the shoulder approvingly. Summer shook her head, starting to smile as well.

''I don't see what's so funny.'' Taylor mock-glared, eyes twinkling. She still sounded a little nervous to Sandy, but she played out the joke, crossing her arms at the chortling boy in front of her. ''It's not like I'm unattractive, or anything.'' She sounded doubtful about that, a little note of desperation underneath the jest. Ryan immediately stopped laughing, taking her face gently in both hands.

''You're too smart for her, Taylor.'' Sandy lifted his eyebrows towards orbit as the boy kissed her as if no one else was in the room. The girl lifted her hands to cover his, kissing him back. The kiss only lasted a few seconds; he was sure they'd broken it off out of their own self-consciousness and not the gagging noises Seth was making. Ryan tapped Taylor's nose gently with one finger, smiling. ''She tries anything and I'll make sure she gets a first hand look at cage fighting.'' Everyone laughed, but Sandy was a little nervous at the undertone of serious determination to the jest.

''She's got the bitch slap move down, Atwood, you may have a fight on your hands.'' Summer put in, looking a little nervous still; but joining in the fun.

''Oh, not me.'' Ryan turned away from gazing into Taylor's eyes and grinned impishly at Summer. Sandy was relieved to see the return of the boy's good mood, of everyone's good mood. ''They had Cat Fight Tuesdays, you know.''

''Oh my god.'' Seth breathed. ''How did you not **tell** me about this? Where **was** this? Do you think we could go this……Uhm…….'' Sandy chuckled at the look of utter desperation his son shot him, the two girls glaring at the boy with twin looks of disdain. Summer was tapping her foot, hands on her hips and he thought she might be headed for one of those 'rage blackouts' he'd heard so much about.

''No murders in the kitchen, please.'' Sandy quipped, shrugging at the betrayed expression on his boys face. ''It's hell to get the blood out of the linoleum.''

''Yeah.'' Ryan added, putting an arm around Taylor's shoulders. ''Drown him in the pool, not as big of a mess.''

''I'll remember this, man, you'll need a favor some day….'' Seth jumped up with a yelp as Summer started towards him. ''Now, sweetie, you know I was just looking for material for the comic book……''

Sandy laughed as the boy bolted past him, followed closely by his girlfriend. Ryan and Taylor came over to the open door, watching the girl chase his son around the patio. He joined them, putting a hand on his foster son's shoulder, nodding in approval at the young woman clapping her hands excitedly; shouting advice to the other girl. Ryan looked over at her and the older man smiled at the tender, loving expression that lit his gaze. Seeing that look, seeing her smile at the younger man over her shoulder as if he'd spoken; Sandy thought, to his immense relief, that Marissa didn't stand a snowball's chance. He hoped, for her sake as well as everyone else's piece of mind, that she didn't even try.


	2. Summer

''It doesn't look any different.'' Summer complained as Seth pulled his parent's car into a parking spot in front of the diner. Taylor pulling her shiny red car into a space a little further down. She'd wanted to ride with her new girl friend, but Ryan had looked so pathetic she'd changed her mind to ride with her boyfriend. ''It should look different. More ……senior year.''

''I'll complain to the management.'' Seth soothed her, smiling a little. They got out of the car, waiting for their friends. She started to fidget, smelling the pancakes, the last pancakes before registration. **Senior year** pancakes. Seth smiled wider and put an arm around her. ''Why don't we grab a booth? Those two are probably making out or something, anyway.''

''Eww. Cohen!'' Summer giggled at him, shoving him away from her. She **so** didn't need that mental image as she was trying to eat. Her boyfriend smirked at her, holding open the door. She was about to tease him about his obsession with his brother's sex life, when she saw who was sitting in a booth near the back, stirring her coffee dejectedly.

''Oh **shit**.'' She couldn't have agreed more with his uncharacteristic cursing.

''Marissa.'' As if her friend …her **former** friend….had heard the stunned whisper, the blonde girl raised her head and saw them. She smiled brightly and waved, motioning them over. Summer looked desperately around, heart sinking as she saw there weren't any empty booths, and none with enough seating for four extra people.

''I'll warn the others.'' Seth retreated out the door, leaving her no choice but to proceed. She felt like she was being sent into a minefield without even a stick to poke the ground. Cohen had better not leave me in here alone, she thought. I'll give him a rage **eclipse**.

''Sum!'' Marissa stood as she reached the booth and went to hug her. Something on her face must have warned the girl off, because she dropped her arms. The two girls stood there staring at each other for several seconds. The taller girl looked away first. ''So….uhm……I just wanted to say I'm sorry.'' She **sounded** sorry, the brunette thought. Her eyes aren't bloodshot, she doesn't smell funky and she's not styling Courtney Love. ''I've been going….no, no excuses.'' She took a deep breath, her blue eyes watery as she stared pleadingly back at Summer's face. ''I've been a real bitch, Sum.'' That was true. A small sliver of hope rose up inside and she told it to wait. Wait to see how she reacts to Ryan and Taylor. Summer looked over her shoulder to see if Seth was back yet. The other girl kept speaking. ''I want to blame it on Ryan, or booze, or Trey, or ….well, anything….. but the truth is, I didn't **have** to react the way I did. Or treat you like I did. You're my best friend, Sum, or you were. I'm not saying we should be, again, just that…..'' She sniffled a little, and the shorter girl focused her attention a little guiltily back on her ex-best friend. ''Maybe I could have another chance?''

''Oh, Coop.'' She wanted to, she **really** wanted to. She wanted to be the nice, understanding person, the one who was a good friend. But the past held her back, hardened her natural empathy. Easy, see how she treats Taylor. That'll be the true test, Summer thought to herself, how she reacts to Townsend hooking up with Ryan. ''Let's just see how it goes, okay? I'm not saying 'no' …'' She rushed to stall the tears she could see building. Last thing they needed was a weepy Marissa.'' …..just…..let's see.'' She held out a hand for the girl to shake, wanting to make it clear she was on probation. ''A new year, our **best** year. We'll be mature young college women, soon; we should live up to the image.''

''Oh, Sum.'' Marissa laughed, sounding like her old self, like Coop. A frown suddenly crossed her face as she looked at the door. And here we go, Summer thought as she turned to look. Taylor was heading towards them, a determined expression on her face. Seth was rushing after the girl, making faces at her, trying to convey something. Ryan took a deep breath, let go the door, and brought up the rear. ''What do you think Dorksend's doing here?'' She muttered to the brunette. Not quietly enough, from the brief pause in the third girl's approach.

''Summer!'' Taylor hugged her and she hugged back, relieved to have back up, **mature** back up. Unlike Seth, who was fidgeting around like a toddler needing a potty break. ''Marissa!'' Coop stiffened as the girl hugged her briefly, looking relieved at how quickly the gesture ended. ''It's so good to **see **you! Social committee just wouldn't be any fun without you!'' Summer heard the fear underlying the sincerity and held her breath. Please, God, please, let us get through this, she prayed, without anyone having a meltdown or rage blackout or anything? Please? ''Are you ready for senior year? I have to tell you, I've got goose bumps, butterflies, the works!''

''Yeah, whatever.'' Marissa remarked, raising her eyebrows at Summer as if to ask 'why are we talking to her?'. Summer marked a point off for the look, points on for not saying anything truly nasty.

''Could we sit? I'm starved. My little Jewish man wants his pancakes, sausage, and **coffee**.'' Seth put an arm around her as he came up, kissing her cheek. She decided to forgive him for his earlier cowardice. ''Hey, Marissa. You don't mind sitting between me and gorgeous here, right?'' He squeezed her shoulder warningly, and Summer realized what had taken him so long, retrieving their friends. Seating arrangement, oh god, she'd never even thought of it.

''Why would I mind?'' Marissa sat down and Summer took the end cap, leaving Seth to slither into the middle. Taylor sat down, sliding in next to the nervously grinning boy. ''Uhm…..Taylor, there are other places….'' She was starting to say when Ryan (finally) joined them.

''Hey, sorry I dragged in.'' Ryan sat down, laying his arm along the back of the booth behind Taylor, looking at her like she was the only one at the table. Summer heard Marissa suck in a shocked breath, saw her hand clench around the handle of the spoon she'd been stirring her coffee with. ''Some guy was eyeing your car, had to be sure he wasn't going to try anything.''

''Uh-huh.'' Taylor smirked, nudging him teasingly with her elbow as she surveyed the menu. ''You mean you were just scheming how to get me to let you drive it.'' Ryan laughed softly in agreement, taking a corner of the menu so he could read it over the girl's shoulder.

''Let's order.'' Summer suggested, risking a look at the girl next to her. Marissa's jaw was clenched, eyes blazing hate directly across the table. Seth waved near-frantically to attract the attention of a waitress, not missing the tension at the table. ''Hey, Coop, how great is kick-off carnival going to be this year?'' Her old friend was still glaring at Taylor, so she poked her gently with a careful finger. The blue eyes were confused, hurt, but mostly angry. She caught sight of a calculating expression, deep within, before the girl covered it with a bright, plastic smile. Summer felt her hopes for the renewal of their friendship dim in it's false light.

''Oh, yeah, kick-off carnival. Well, I don't think we should make too many changes.'' She looked significantly at Ryan, smiling seductively and making the brunette wish she'd chosen someplace new for pre-registration breakfast. ''You want to stick with the sure thing, not go chasing after every passing fad. Too late, you'll realize you made a huge mistake.'' Everyone at the table knew what she was really talking about and the silence stretched on awaiting the blonde boy's reaction.

''I don't know.'' Ryan shrugged, fiddling with his water glass. He looked as if he couldn't care less, like they weren't talking about anything more important than white or wheat toast. ''I got out of it okay.'' He raised flat and expressionless eyes to Marissa; the face of someone looking at a stranger. ''The mistake, that is. I'm making better decisions, these days.'' He turned his head to look at Taylor and his expression instantly softened. Summer was glad to see a little of the fear leave her new friend's face as the two gazed at each other, entering their own little world. Oh my god, she realized, is that what Seth and I do?

''Ah, benevolent diner lady!'' Seth rushed to fill the tense silence as the waitress stepped up the table. She gave the boy a doubtful look. ''Pancake us!''

''What he means is we're ready to order.'' Ryan explained, looking like he wanted to laugh as he handed their menus to the woman.

''Just ignore him, '' Summer told her, waving a hand at her boyfriend irritatedly. ''We do.''

The woman nodded, resigned, and the teens placed their orders, Marissa's voice very subdued. Seth looked at her over her former friend's head, eyes worried. Looking around the table, she knew exactly why. None of the three were looking at each other, or at her and her guy. Great, now we do the avoidance game, she thought morosely. The waitress poured their coffees and bustled off to get the food.

''Well, **this** isn't awkward at all.'' Taylor spoke up sarcastically. Marissa and Ryan looked at her in astonishment. Seth mouthed 'oh shit' at her, and she agreed. The girl's tendency to meet problems head on (from what they'd seen so far, anyway) could be problem-making. Or, in this case, smack-down-at-the-diner-making. ''Oh, please, let's just deal with the elephant in the room, shall we? Then we can all get on with our senior year.''

''Taylor…..'' From the way Seth was glancing between the two blondes, he didn't think this was a good idea. She wasn't too sure, herself, but the confident intelligence in the auburn beauty's gaze was convincing. That, and she really didn't want to argue with the captain of the school's debate team, especially as she was now a friend.

''Marissa.'' Summer felt her old friend stiffen at being addressed. Hazel eyes met blue and the two girls just stared at each other for the longest time. The taller girl looked away first, glaring at her coffee cup.

''What?'' Marissa finally snapped out, obviously tired of waiting for her rival to speak. She started tapping her spoon against the table. Summer resisted the urge to snatch the utensil out of her hand, pushing aside her irritation with the noise. There were more important things to worry about. Like whether there was going to be a catfight or not, and if she could stand to take sides.

''Is there anything you'd like to say to Ryan?'' Taylor folded her hands together on the table, as serene as if they were discussing the weather. She's good, thought Summer. Marissa gaped across the table, then turned startled eyes to her ex. He had his stone face on, like nothing being discussed had anything to do with him. His former love started to turn a little pink, mouth working. ''I don't mean an apology, I believe you've already covered that. Anything else, any …. Observations.'' **Now** she sounded nervous. It was a perfect opportunity for the ex-girlfriend to get in a shot at the current one. Summer crossed her fingers that Coop wouldn't be that tacky.

''Just that you seemed to get over me pretty fast.'' Marissa glanced significantly to Ryan's left. She smirked and Summer felt fear twist her gut. Oh shit, here it comes. ''I guess….''

''It's not like I don't have the practice.'' Ryan interrupted whatever volley she'd been about to deliver. Her blue eyes narrowed balefully at him as he continued. ''And not that it's any of your business, but Taylor and I have just started seeing each other. She doesn't have anything to do with what happened in May.'' Summer breathed a sigh of relief that they hadn't had to hear any vitriol at the breakfast table. She got enough of that the mornings the step-monster was conscious; few though they were.

''Ryan.'' Taylor's voice was expectant, and he looked at her in surprise. She lifted an eyebrow at him, tilting her head towards the blonde girl, whose face was pale with either shock or fury. ''You have something to say to Marissa.'' It was more of a statement than a question and his eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

''You've got to be kidding me.'' He said, voice reluctant and uncomfortable. Seth looked at her in confusion and she shrugged. Why did he expect **her** to know what those two were doing when they did that mind-reading thing? She may be a girl, but **he** was the guy's brother. Marissa's brow was furrowing, not understanding what was happening across the table from her. Taylor crossed her arms, expression becoming stern. ''Okay, yeah, I guess you're right.'' Ryan sighed, rubbing the back of his head and turned his gaze to the girl on Summer's right. ''I'm sorry, Marissa.''

Everyone but Taylor sucked in a shocked breath and Summer couldn't help sending the girl a disbelieving look. **This** was her idea of clearing the air? What the hell was she thinking? It was almost like she'd gone Cohen and was trying to get them back together or something; which would be the advent of the apocalypse, in her opinion. She'd never felt more relief than she had when she'd realized the two were **staying** broken up, this time. The waitress delivered their food and refilled their mugs, which the newest member of the group sipped serenely; seemingly oblivious to the stares of the others. They all started to eat. Emotional baggage aside, they were five hungry teens and the food was good.

''I don't understand.'' Marissa said plaintively, after they'd worked through most of their breakfast. Summer felt her stomach churn, knowing that the drama wasn't over yet. Just a few more minutes, and we can escape to school, she told herself. Of course, we all go the same school …….terrific. The tall girl fiddled with the crusts of her toast, crumbling them into tiny bits. ''You're sorry we broke up?'' Now she sounded hopeful, and she lifted huge eyes to the boy across from her. Summer couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Yeah, that'll happen.

''No.'' Ryan was looking at his ex carefully, as if unsure what she was going to do. Summer thought that expression was the smartest thing he'd done regarding Coop this morning. ''I'm just saying…… I'm sorry I've been putting it all on you. I made my share of bone-head moves, with us…'' He waved a hand between himself and his ex. ''….and it's not fair to blame you for the whole ….mess.'' He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. ''So, I'm sorry.''

''And that's supposed to make it all better?'' Marissa snapped, eyes filling with hurt. Seth cringed away from the girl and Summer wanted to shake him. Now was **not** the time to be overly dramatic; the former couple had all the drama they needed, in spades. "You say you're sorry' and it's all okay?'' She was snarling now, openly hostile.

''Nothing's going to 'make it all better'.'' Taylor told her, hazel gaze sympathetic. ''But honesty and a little civility will make it something you …..**we** can all live with.'' She nudged Ryan with her elbow and he stood, pulling out his wallet. Summer stood as well, glad the uncomfortable meal was over. God, she hoped lunch wouldn't be like this. If they kept having drama dining, she was going to look like Fiona Apple in a couple of days.

''I'll ride with Tay.'' Summer decided, moving forward to link arms with her new friend. She didn't miss the venomous glare she got for the maneuver, nor the calculating evaluation that followed. ''Do you have a ride, Marissa?'' She asked, giving the still seated teen a warning look.

''I've got my convertible.'' Marissa said sulkily, looking around at the others. The brunette could tell she felt left out, displaced. She was sorry for the other girl, but not too much. Her current state was pretty much her own fault and nothing that had happened, so far, was leading Summer to believe that relationship could be repaired.

''We can make a race of it!'' Seth enthused. ''Loser buys lunch.'' Ryan snatched the keys out of his hands.

''If we're racing, I'm driving.'' He muttered, shaking his head. ''Summer's right, you drive like a little old lady.''

''Little old **Jewish man**, pay attention, dude.'' Seth hugged her, kissing her forehead. ''See you at school, ladies!'' He dashed out the door, followed more sedately by his smiling brother.

''Sum…..'' Marissa began, eyes pleading and expression hurt. If she hadn't been sure the girl was trying to manipulate her, or seen the looks she'd been sending Taylor; she probably would've folded and forgiven her old friend. She wasn't stupid, though, and resented the other's expectations that she was.

''See you in committee, Coop.'' She waved, almost dragging her new friend to the car. Once they were out the door and into the vehicle (the front seats were **far** more comfortable than the back one) she turned a concerned expression to the girl driving. ''This is a **really** bad idea, Tay. Encouraging them to get along, to be **friends**? Are you out of your **mind**? That's the whole problem, is those two together, and while I don't think **Atwood** will be that dumb, that doesn't mean Marissa is just going to take being replaced laying down! You're practically **inviting** her to try!''

''Exactly.'' Summer reared back in shock at the smug smile on her face. Before she could express her amazement at the senselessness of the situation, Taylor threw the car in reverse and began driving like she was trying out for Nascar. She continued speaking as if they weren't breaking several traffic laws (and probably the sound barrier). ''He's afraid of her, Summer. He's afraid that, if he spends any time with her, he'll go back to her. That he'll forgive and forget and just…..''

''He told you that?'' Summer was amazed out of her fear of the other's driving. Ryan **talking** was surprising enough; talking about his emotions was a Red Sea level event. Like real snow for the winter dance.

''He didn't have to, I can tell.'' Taylor shrugged, weaving in and out of traffic like a pro. ''He needs to see that he **can** resist her, so he can have faith in us.'' Her voice wavered a little. ''Besides,'' she went on, confidence leaking back into her tone ''trying to keep them apart practically screams that I don't trust him, and I do.''

''Well, I agree with you on the trusting Atwood.'' Summer crossed her arms, slouching in her seat. Scenery whizzed by too quickly to be seen, but she got the impression they were closing in on the campus. ''It's Coop that's making me nervous. She's very possessive, even of guys she's no longer seeing. It's like she needs to be queen bee or something.'' She looked over, seeing the student parking coming into focus as they slowed. ''I'm a little concerned over what she'll say to you, really. The gossip at this school is visciuos enough without someone feeding or directing it.''

''Oh, don't worry about me.'' Taylor waved a hand nonchalantly as she spun into a parking space. Summer resisted the urge to leap out and kiss the ground as the car was turned off. ''I'm used to being a pariah at this place.'' Her passenger flinched at how accurate the assessment was. ''Besides, living with **my** mother, I'm like Navy Seal of bitchiness.'' Summer laughed, shaking her head and climbing out of the car. Cool or not, Ryan could ride with his girlfriend from now on. That was more adrenaline than she really needed this early in the morning, on top of her regular caffeine.

''Well, that's one thing you've got on her. Your mom's a bitch training academy.'' Summer put her hands on her hips, seeing the boys' smug grins. After a ride like that, they **totally **deserved to have won. She sighed and started towards them, her friend falling into step with her. Oh well, it's not like they'd lost anything too important.

''That, and I haven't slept with half of Newport.'' Taylor commented dryly, smoothing her hair as they neared the boys.

''Me-ow.'' Summer complimented her. The girl stood a pretty good chance; if she could keep her confidence up. The brunette determined that would be **her** part in this: keeping Tay's morale up and letting Marissa know to **back off**. She wished Ryan had been wrong about how his ex would react, though. Senior year was supposed to be 'best year ever', not another two semesters of angst and drama.

''Really?'' Tay was doing one of her happy claps. Ryan's face lit up with smiles for them both (hers was approving, Tay's more…..intense). He looked almost as glad to see them as Seth did. The taller boy had his arms held wide in welcome, enfolding her affectionately when she got in arm's reach. ''I've never gotten a 'meow' before.''

''That's because you've got too much class.'' Ryan told her, taking her hand and giving her a loving look. They were staring at each other again and Seth started chattering about whether they should take classes or, it being senior year; load their curriculums with coaster courses and study halls. Summer smiled as they started towards the administration building; relaxing into the comfortable feeling of being with good friends. This **was** going to be the best year ever, she decided firmly. Nothing and **no one** is going to change **that**. Not if **I** have anything to say about it.


	3. Ryan

Ryan paused at the bottom of the hill, watching his brother and Summer chatter as they climbed the stairs, arms around each other. There was a familiar tension stiffening his every muscle, his stomach wished he hadn't had any breakfast. He could barely feel Taylor's hand in his, his fingers were so chilled. He was actually surprised his hands weren't shaking. He'd been here before. Well, not **here** exactly……

It had been the beginning of his freshman year in Chino Hills and the end of what he'd considered to be, at the time, the best year of his life. The summer before his last year of junior high, he'd gone to a construction site that was hiring. Scrawny little thirteen year old punk, it was a wonder no one had called social services. No one had given him a job, either, until Steve saw him. Steve was an architect, from Texas. He'd come up to visit a cousin and stayed, taking work around the state. Steve had said he needed an 'assistant', a native guide, as it were. The foreman's objections had stopped when he'd found out that Ryan spoke Spanish. Half the man's labor force had little to no English including, he'd been amused to see, Theresa's cousin Ramon. Steve had said he could lend a hand with some of the actual work when he 'put some meat on them bones' and bought him a huge lunch.

So when Dawn had showed up, enthusiastically sober over her new job at a deli; it had just seemed like things were going good for a change. The next week was a little awkward: Dawn asking questions about Steve, Steve asking about Dawn; he'd finally invited his boss to dinner to get out of the middle of it. The humiliation of his mother telling 'baby Ry' stories was worth it as Steve starting dating his mom, and things got even better. She still **drank**, but no longer to excess; she had even started trying to stop smoking. Trey'd gotten a job with the cousin, auto repair for a used car dealership; and things kept getting better. There were classes at the Y for him and Trey (swimming, boxing, he even took some CPR). He'd started going to class, limited the girls he'd been doing to Theresa, and working two summers worth of construction as Steve's aide. Christmas had netted him a bike (Steve), a jacket (Mom), and a walkman (Trey). He'd considered the trauma of what he'd caught Dawn and Steve doing a fair trade for the man funding his P-Sat test. There'd even been talk of community college, scholarships; what he'd have to do to make that dream happen. And then the Atwood luck had struck.

The cousin (whose name he either still couldn't remember or had successfully blocked out) had come to get him from the site. Steve had been in an accident; some rich trust fund drunken asshole had side-swiped his truck. Steve's vehicle had spun into a guardrail, crushing the cab and killing the man instantly. The rich prick didn't even have a scratch, didn't even get his license suspended; 'pillar of the community' that he was. He'd gone home to find his mom, unsurprisingly; passed out cold on the couch with an empty bottle of Stoly. Trey had left when she'd hooked up with AJ, telling his little brother that only babies lived in dream worlds where Atwoods went to college. He'd gotten into fight after fight about 'thinking he was better' than the people around him. The offer made him at the funeral by Steve's family to 'look them up' in Texas seemed as unrealistic as Santa Claus. His hopes and dreams had sunk into the ground with the man's casket. And there they'd lain until some crazy PD had handed him a card with his home number on it.

Now, here he was, three years later; his dreams once more within reach, his future laid out brightly before him. And he was so terrified he could hardly breathe. He couldn't make himself relax, couldn't believe that there wasn't some Sword of Damocles dangling over his head. Although, the fact he knew that reference was a strong example of how different things were, this time. He'd actually been** relieved** to see Marissa at the diner; figuring that if she was the trouble, he could handle it. Ryan closed his eyes, trying to work up the nerve to climb the stairs he'd ascended without thought for two years. Senior year stairs, as Summer would say.

''Whenever you're ready.''

He looked over at Taylor's soft voice, seeing her hazel eyes calm and steady on his face. There was no impatience in her tone, no concern in her gaze. He saw confidence and affection; supporting faith. She didn't demand to know what he was thinking, ask if he was okay, or jump to any conclusions about how this was about Marissa. She just looked at him, looked **into** him, and accepted what was there; believed in the core of the man he sometimes doubted he could ever be. He found himself smiling at her, at what he saw in **her**; the woman he was coming to know. He squeezed her hand gently, feeling that his fears were inconsequential. This was a new chapter to his life, why couldn't it be a happy ending?

''Guess I'm a little nervous.'' Ryan rubbed his thumb over hers, a little embarrassed.

''Only a moron wouldn't be.'' She told him, matter-of-factly. He felt a surge of affection for her, bent his head towards hers. She turned away, tugged at his hand before heading up the stairs. ''We don't want to miss registration.'' Her tone was teasing, her ponytail swishing back and forth over her shoulders. He found himself hypnotized by the motion of her hair against the back of polo shirt, the play of muscles under her slacks. ''Ryan?'' Taylor called to him from the top of the hill, smiling down at him. Laughing, he charged up the stairs to join her.

Summer and Seth, thankfully, didn't make a big deal out of the delay. They all picked up their packets from the counselors and found a table. The four friends were silent as they picked their classes. Ryan could hear the whispers, the speculation as to why 'Dorksend' was sitting with the three other teens. He clenched his fist, wanting to yell and explain what an amazing girl they were insulting; wanting to hit until they apologized. Her cool hand covered the fist, he looked over to see that she wasn't even looking at him. She was nibbling the end of her pen, eyes scanning the pages before her as she planned out her future for the next year. He felt himself settling down just at her touch (which confused the hell out of him, honestly) and told himself to consider the sources.

''Problems?'' He asked, curious as to what she was trying to decide. He would've thought she'd have the year planned out in triplicate, with little footnotes on what to do if she hit a snag.

''Trying to trim my extra-curricular activities.'' He felt a sudden chill. Maybe **he** was the snag. One she hadn't planned for. Taylor looked over at him and smiled. ''Senior year is very involved, so I'm trying not to overextend.'' She patted his hand comfortingly and looked back at her list.

''Like what?'' He realized he didn't know enough about her; what she was like at school, what she was interested in doing. He scooted over and peered over her shoulder. ''Are those all your activities?'' That definitely did look like too much for one girl. It looked like too much for **three** girls.

''No, those are all my **choices**.'' Taylor explained. ''I'm keeping social committee, of course.'' She and Summer exchanged a smile. He was so glad they got along. Uncomfortable wouldn't even **begin** to cover the situation if they hadn't. ''Now, I'm doing yearbook……. So I can get rid of Lit Mag and the school paper. You're in the photography club, right Seth?'' She continued to make little marks on her paper as his brother stammered a confused affirmative. ''Great, so you can take candid shots throughout the year; we'll pick through them in February for the yearbook layout.''

''Uh….'' Seth looked at the girl nervously. ''Last time we photo geeks tried that, some guys went all Sean Penn on us. I don't want to spend senior year in bruises; and I'm referring to the ones Summer'll give me if I show up to prom with a black eye.''

''Yes, I know people don't like their picture taken, usually. However, this year you have the **magic word**.'' She lifted her hands, miming the taking of a picture. ''Just take the picture, shrug. '' She suited action to words, lowering her hands. ''And say 'yearbook'. People will line up for it, trust me. I've got someone from the paper lined up for the sports events, so don't worry about attending those.''

''That sounds like it might actually work, Cohen.'' Summer told her boyfriend, supportively, then frowned. ''Actually, it sounds like a **lot** of work.'' She turned her head back to Taylor, who smiled reassuringly.

''Oh, he won't be our **only** photographer. I'd just like to have more than one or two 'casual' shots from the professionals to choose from, that's all.'' She looked back down at her paper and marked off a few more items. ''Well, debate teams stays. We've got a good chance of making regionals this semester, so I'm **not** missing that. And…… I think drama club will round things out nicely.'' Taylor smiled in triumph down at her page, then fixed him with an evaluating stare.

''Oh, no.'' He knew where that look was headed. No way, not even for her. ''Snoopy was a **long** time ago.'' Ryan protested, causing Seth to burst into laughter. ''And I choose that role because it didn't have any spoken lines. No way.''

''Ryan.'' She used a patient tone, like he was being a big baby. Summer got this evil smile, thinking he was about to be talking into it. Nothing doing, he thought to himself, meeting his girl's hazel eyes with his stubborn blue ones. Well, maybe. ''I've been in drama club for three years and never set foot on the stage during a performance.'' She tapped her pen gently on his pages, making him pull them away sharply. Summer joined his brother in laughter, probably at the look on his face. Taylor sighed. ''Someone has to organized the costumes, the personnel, the scripts. Design and build the sets…..'' She left the sentence dangling suggestively.

''That actually sounds right up your alley, Atwood.'' Summer enthused, smiling in friendship, now; rather than amusement at his expense.

''Yeah, you did a awesome job with the bonfire, right? Although, how much of that was Captain Oats….'' Seth was saying, tone teasingly supportive.

''Okay, okay.'' He snatched up his pen and, pausing briefly, marked down 'drama club'. Taylor clapped her hands happily and he raised the pen at her in warning. ''One attempt to get me on stage as anything but technical support, though….''' He threatened.

''Relax, Ryan.'' She dazzled him with her smile and he blinked, smiling back. ''I'm not about to invite any more competition.'' She was still a little nervous about the Marissa thing, he saw. She made a fuss of folding her papers just so, making sure her pen was capped properly. Impulsively (and impishly wanting to give the gossips something to **really** talk about) he moved closer to her, sliding one hand along the back of her chair.

''What competition?'' He whispered, catching her lips with his when she turned her head, startled, to look at him. He lifted the hand from the back of her chair to cup the back of her head, thrilling again to the feel of her, the taste. She opened her mouth eagerly and he forgot why he'd started this; basking in the sensations running over his skin. Her hands left a trail of electricity, running up to rest on his shoulders and pushing him gently away…..?

''Ry-an.'' Taylor's whisper was warning, and he dropped his hand back onto her chair, smiling. She hadn't wanted to stop either, he could see it in her eyes; in the way she licked her lips as she turned away from him and back to the table. The whispering around them had reached a more fevered pitch; pity he couldn't hear any. He'd probably get a full report, and teasing, from Seth and Summer later. The two had apparently taken the opportunity of his distraction to turn in their registration forms. His brother made sappy faces at him from across the room while the guy's girlfriend just gave him a subtle thumbs-up. Ryan was just about to call his girl's attention to the pair, when she gasped. ''Mon Dieu.'' She sounded scared.

''Taylor?'' He looked at her, then tracked her uneasy stare across the room to a man talking with some girl he thought he recognized from last year's math class. The guy was a bright blond, pale, with a pastel shirt that had a white collar and white cuffs. His eyes were blue, Ryan saw as the man turned their way, matching the pale color of his tie. He looked like a Nazi take on the ultimate prepped out yuppie.

''She said she fired him.'' Taylor was murmuring. His brain kicked into high gear and he frowned, feeling sick. There was only one 'she' who was firing a 'him' that would make this girl this nervous. He turned back to her with a hard look, feeling the disappointed burn of someone lying to him, even by omission.

''You never said she hired a teacher.'' He snapped, piercing her with a glare. It was the first time he'd felt mad at her, and he didn't like it, but he couldn't help himself. She was supposed to be different. She wasn't supposed to keep things from him, like …

''Ryan, he's the Dean of Discipline.'' She turned to meet his gaze squarely, expression sadly resigned. His brow furrowed at the unfamiliar title. ''I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to **pound** him. He could expel you for excessive **tardiness**, I didn't want you in trouble to defend me.'' I'm not worth that, her tone said. He felt most of his anger bleed away, starting to feel like a jerk. She hadn't lied because she didn't trust him to keep his temper (although he **did** still want to pound the guy). She lied to protect** him** from the consequences thereof. It almost made it all right. ''Besides, mother was **firing** him. I figured she meant …..'' Taylor waved her hand as she tried to convey how officially she thought the firing would have gone down. ''I'm sorry I lied, Ryan.'' She closed her eyes, voice choked like she thought they were breaking up. Wait, she probably **did** think they were breaking up; he must've complained about Marissa's lying more than he thought. He had a sudden, panicked thought that he could lose her; right here, right now, if he didn't say the right thing.

''That's the only thing, though, right?'' Ryan kept his tone gentle as he raised the hand back up off her chair to cup her cheek. Her hazel orbs flew open in surprised hope. He smiled softly, affectionately. ''You're not Seth's long-lost twin or something? 'Cause that would be a huge problem for me.'' He rubbed his thumb caressingly over her cheekbone.

''Not that I know of .'' She whispered in a happy tone, giving him a warm, nearly debilitating, rush of relief at being forgiven. She might've continued, if there hadn't been an interruption.

''Ryan Atwood?'' He looked up, not very surprised to see the guy standing at their table, looking stern. Or, at least, **trying** to look stern. He mostly just looked like a pissed off kewpie doll. ''Dean Hess. If you're through molesting the co-eds, I'd like a moment.''

''I'm not…'' He dropped his hand from her face, feeling himself flush, seeing Taylor's face flicker with self-consciousness. There was a reason right there to hate the guy, besides what he already knew about him. She cleared her throat and stood, nervous tension lacing her voice and movements.

''I'll turn this in for you.'' Taylor slid the registration form out from underneath his fingers. ''Drama club meets at ten in the auditorium. I'll be in social committee until then.'' She gathered the rest of her things and nodded politely at the other man. ''Dean Hess.''

''Miss Townsend.'' Was the guy actually checking out his girlfriend right in front of him? He was, the ass. Ryan took a deep breath and yanked his temper back under control. Be like Sandy, he told himself. He looked up at the guy calmly, leaning back in his chair as if he didn't have a care in the world. ''If you would come with me, Ryan?'' The guy turned and walked away, not looking to see if he was following. Ryan sighed and went after him, wishing people would just find something else to whisper about. Not likely, considering that this town was practically** built** on gossip, he thought. They walked a short distance down the hall, to a small study that had been made over into an office. 'Jack Hess – Dean of Discipline' was stenciled onto the glass. The older man held the door open for him, waving him in. ''That's a special young lady.''

''Yes, she is.'' He took the man's invitation to enter the room first, stopping next to the chairs. He didn't sit; he didn't figure he'd be here that long. There would be a warning rant about Taylor, maybe a little jealousy, then he could go. Hess's words as he closed the door behind them shot a hole in **that** theory.

''Too bad you'll ruin her life.'' The hell? He didn't give the guy the satisfaction of a startled look, letting him continue talking. The older guy walked behind his desk, fixing him with what was apparently his version of a hard stare. Ryan thought he looked stoned. ''Do you honestly think she'll have a future, being with you?''

''And a gigolo twice her age is better for her: how?'' Ryan asked calmly, giving the guy his best poker face. Seeing surprise flicker over the that pale face gave him a feeling of triumph. ''As long as we're being honest.'' Hess had an unsettled expression, an attitude that the conversation wasn't exactly going the way he'd expected. He couldn't resist twisting the knife a little. ''Is there anything you wanted to talk about besides sour grapes; because I prefer hanging with my **girlfriend**.'' He let his voice emphasis the possessive seriousness of his relationship with Taylor. So suck on that, jackass; he thought irritatedly.

''You think this is about the girl?'' The man shook his head, looking amused. He felt a trickle of fear at the back of his neck. ''There are more parents than Veronica involved in my coming here.'' He opened a drawer, pulled out a folder and dropped it on the desk. The younger man didn't need to see the little tag 'Atwood, R.' to know whose file it was. Only one student at Harbor had a file that big. Trickle became a chill, creeping slowly along his spine. ''You think we could get your status put on the docket for board review this Sunday without a petition? I won't bore you with the number of signatures, but it's a significant matter.'' He flipped open the folder, keeping his gaze locked with Ryan's, smiling smugly as he read from memory. The younger man started to feel nauseous, head beginning to throb. Get on with it, he wanted to shout. Just fucking get it over with. ''Arson, grand theft auto, underage drinking, smoking, vandalism, charges of cheating ……there's even some involvement with drugs.'' He wanted to protest, to defend himself; but the chill of fear had paralyzed him, keeping him still and quiet, muscles tensing all over his body as the school's new Dean continued talking. ''Not exactly what colleges are looking for in a freshman.''

''That's part of my juvenile record.'' He hated the way his voice cracked on the first word, clenching his hands into fists; gaze trapped by the pale blue victorious eyes of a man he realized he truly hated. There wasn't a lot of confidence in his tone as he finished: ''It's supposed to be sealed when I turn eighteen.''

''Which isn't until March.'' Hess tapped a finger on the page, still not looking down. Ryan felt like there was no air in the room, he wanted to stop the man from going further, to stop the coffin being nailed shut on his future. ''A lot can happen before then. Even if the board doesn't vote your expulsion, which I think **very** unlikely.'' That smile belonged on a snake, not a man. His hands were starting to hurt, he was clenching them so tightly, wanting so badly to shut him the **fuck up**. ''You'd have to have a perfect record to get anywhere **near** a college.'' He flipped the folder closed decisively, nearly smirking in his triumph. ''We both know you're a **long** way from perfect, aren't you, Ryan?'' He could hear his pulse throbbing in his ears, his breath was ragged. Be like Sandy, be like Sandy, be like Sandy; he chanted internally. He hasn't actually **done** anything, yet. As if his thoughts prompted it, the snake-smile got wider, and Hess delivered the final nail. ''I think a letter is warranted, just to let prospective institutions know about your propensity for violence. Your nearly sociopathic behavior.'' Ryan closed his eyes, swearing internally; sure he could hear the slamming of a door closing off his dreams for good. He heard the guy moving and snapped his eyes back open, unable to keep from tensing further as the man walked within arm's reach. The older man moved past him, towards the door, and he barely heard the rest over the struggle not to strangle him from behind. ''Take a good look around, Ryan. In a week, a month at most, you'll be out of here. Cohen's little social outreach experiment is over and your fifteen minutes are up.'' He opened the door, holding it with mock-civility for the boy to exit. He moved like a zombie towards the opening, wishing he could escape the dismal, familiar, hated future that had been restored to him as easily as he did this room. ''There might be time to get your registration form back.'' The tone was cheerfully suggestive and he looked involuntarily at the victorious face he wanted to smash into a pulp. ''Save everyone a lot of trouble and quit.''

''You think I'd give you the satisfaction, Ken doll?'' He snarled, masking the ragged disappointed quality of his voice in an angry growl. The shove was unexpected, and he stumbled, surprised, into the door jamb; knowing that he'd bruised his arm to the bone. Ryan straightened, backing up into the hall; looking at the still-smiling man uneasily. Oliver, he thought, the guy's like Oliver; all twisted and dangerous under the polite mask.

''Watch who you're talking to, punk.'' Hess whispered, barely moving his thin lips. The door slammed in his face,

Ryan rubbed his arm as he moved abstractedly down the hall and out of the building. He thought he passed other students, but couldn't afterwards recall. He wanted to scream, the tear things apart, to take that son of a bitch apart. He thought longingly of the body bag he'd hung in the pool house, the satisfaction of hitting it over and over and over….. But the house was empty, Seth didn't have other transportation, and he'd practically promised Taylor he'd meet her for drama club. He checked his watch and was amazed at how little time it took to destroy someone's future. He didn't have time enough to go home and come back, but……

The gym's workout room was mostly deserted, only a few people getting things ready for the athletic clubs meeting there later in the week. He put his shoes, shirt, and watch in a little pile and found something to wrap around his hands. The rhythm began to soothe him as he pictured Hess's face under his fists, bleeding his rage out into the maroon pseudo-leather. He started to think about the problem after the fifth blow, trying to find a solution. Maybe he should wait and talk to Taylor? Yeah, go crying to your girlfriend, an inner voice mocked him. He briefly entertained the thought of **not** telling her and leaned briefly against the bag, ashamed of himself. Not half an hour ago he'd nearly bit her head off for keeping something from **him** and here he was, planning on **lying to her**. The hypocrisy of it strengthened the blows as he resumed, trying to rid himself of more than his rage.

Like you can keep a secret from her, anyway. That thought sounded suspiciously like Seth, but it calmed his guilt and shame. She'd probably take one look at his face and ask what was wrong, if she didn't guess it for herself. She'd probably have some fantastic plan, too; he smiled to himself, then frowned. No way he wanted her anywhere near Dean Hess. He'd have to make that a part of any plan they came up with, he decided. A condition of his accepting her help. He continued pummeling his imaginary opponent, finally clutching the bag to his flushed face and staring into space. His attention fell on the clock on the wall as it ticked one minute later.

'Five minutes until ten' his brain told him and he swore vividly; his vocabulary born entirely of Chino as he snatched at his stuff and looked for a towel to wipe the sweat off. He was gonna to be late, and Taylor would be pissed. The thought of seeing her, even mad at him, lit his world like starlight and he smiled; forgetting all other concerns in that happy expectation. He rushed to clean up, running out of the gym still pulling his shirt on and stuffing his watch into his pocket. Taylor.


	4. Taylor

**A/N; **Thanks to all the lovely people who review and keep telling me I can do this (and kept begging me to do this). I'm such a feedback addict.  Thanks in specific to Super Chino – I'm using an idea I got off a story you wrote & want to give credit (when I remember where the idea came from) and to Waltz4Venus (waltzy to me) who inspires me with every chapter (okay, who makes me green with envy at how excellent her stuff is).

And now, back to your alternatively scheduled universe……..

--xxx—

'' ……right there in the **admin** building ……''

''……Cooper's gonna **freak **……''

''……did Townsend even hook **him**…..?''

''Well, that didn't take long.'' Summer commented as she and Taylor walked down the hall towards the room where social committee was meeting. The gossipy comments of the other girls were plainly audible through the open door. Their quiet approach was drowned out by the giggling speculation.'' It's been what, five minutes?''

''Closer to fifteen.'' Taylor answered her absently, looking through the folders they'd retrieved from her car to make sure she had the correct ones. Drama club and social committee today, debate team tomorrow and yearbook Wednesday. She made little mental lists and charts, going into intricate detail on her schedule in the hopes of distracting herself from what Hess wanted with Ryan. None of the scenarios that were occurring to her were very positive. ''If the gossip in this town stopped, Newport would dry up and blow away.'' She shrugged at her new friend's disbelieving look. ''It's true.''

''You **have** a valid point.'' Summer murmured, looking towards the open door through which malicious snickering could be heard. She turned back with a nervous expression in her dark eyes, and Taylor cut in just as she was opening her mouth to speak.

''Let me mount my own defense, okay? As long as you're there for moral support, I'll be all right.'' She gazed hopefully into the other's face, seeing a look of respect for her self-reliance cross the tanned features. Summer closed her mouth and nodded in agreement.

''Any of those bee-otchs get outta line though….'' The brunette snapped her fingers from side to side and Taylor giggled. She straightened her shoulders and swept confidently into the room.

''Good **morning**, ladies! Welcome back!'' She smiled politely at the stunned and somewhat smirking expressions, setting her things down at the chair to the left of the head of the table. Summer took the seat opposite her. ''How was everyone's vacation?'' She knew none of her small audience would respond; but, as Marissa wasn't there yet, she also knew someone wouldn't be able to resist commenting on the morning's juiciest topic. Namely, the kiss Ryan had given her at registration and the potential reasons therefore. Just remembering it made her skin tingle and deepened one corner of her smile. Focus, girl, she told herself. You've got Junior Newpsies to de-fang.

''You stole Marissa's **boyfriend** and her **best** friend..'' Monique started, glaring accusingly at Summer '' …so now you think you can just take over social committee?'' The other four members of the group looked at her, polished expressions expectant. Taylor sat down and folded her hands together neatly on top of her folders. Did they really think they could intimidate her? Please. They should try living with Veronica for a day if they thought she would buckle under to mere peer pressure.

''I see the rumor mill has done it's usual crack job of checking the facts.'' Taylor observed sarcastically, meeting five eager gazes squarely. Her words made them uneasy, causing them to look to each other in confusion. She strangled a smile, telling herself she could laugh later, with Summer, when they re-hashed this conversation. This was going to be so much** fun**, though. ''So, does everyone want to continue in erroneous mongering, or would you be interested in the straight scoop?'' She looked down the table, waiting. She knew one of them would eventually……

''My little sister goes to school with Kaitlyn Cooper and she said that Marissa and Ryan broke up in May.'' Rachel put in, shooting a glance to Summer for confirmation.

''That's true and it was **totally** ugly.'' The brunette looked uncomfortable to be confirming what **had** to be a bad memory for her, given what Ryan had said about that night.

''So, Taylor, how'd you do it?'' Lynn asked, leaning forward in anticipation. The other's moved in closer as well, eager for details.

''I didn't.'' She smiled a little sadly at their disbelieving looks. ''You obviously don't remember: but last year I took off a bit early? I left for Paris during spring break?''

''Oh my god, I remember that. I remember you brag….telling us about it.'' Monique looked amazed she'd forgotten a vital piece of their current puzzle. Taylor wasn't surprised at all. None of these girls cared anything about her and she was really okay with it; now that she had a real friend. She smiled more sincerely at Summer, who smiled back. ''When did you get back?''

''Weekend before last. I didn't even know Ryan was **available** when I went for that walk on the beach.'' She had all their attention now, and she reveled in the sensation of being center stage. She'd never been in the middle of a scandal and she was enjoying her role more than she really should, she knew. It helped that she hadn't done anything to be ashamed of. Yet, she told herself with an inner thrill of what she might eventually be doing with her boyfriend (!). She felt a little light headed as she translated remembered sensation into potential future events. Fortunately for her heart rate, the others didn't leave her to her fantasies for long.

''And…?'' Rachel prompted, voicing the group's impatience.

''Yeah, Townsend, don't leave us hanging.'' Monique practically begged, fiddling with her bracelet in her eagerness to get information straight from the source. ''Atwood doesn't seem like the type to go for walks on the beach.''

''I didn't say **he** was walking, I said **I** was walking.'' She smoothed her hair back, making them wait, taking a tiny revenge for how they'd snubbed her before now. ''He was just sitting there and…''

''You tripped over him?'' Lynn suggested, snickering. She narrowed her eyes at the girl, disliking the attempt to refocus attention.

''**No**, he came up to me while I was looking at the ocean and scared me. I stepped into the surf.'' She sighed, remembering that moment; the moment she'd realized who he was, seen the moonlight detailing his face. A couple of the others sighed as well, taking up by the romantic touch to the story. She put in a little detail to convince them of the reality of it and to distract herself from the memory of his hands on her arms, of how he'd held her later, in the kitchen. ''Completely ruined my black Manolos.'' She commented plaintively.

''Those were **Manolos**?'' Summer gasped, truly shocked. ''Atwood got off light.'' There were five enquiring expressions turned her way and the brunette hastened to explain. ''When he bought her a replacement pair.''

''He bought you **shoes**?" There were two or three people in on that statement, Rachel looked like she thought Ryan had proposed. If Monique had been Caucasian she would've been pale with shock. Lynn just slumped in her seat, completely taken aback; and Terry and Tammy did their best twin goldfish impersonations. She continued the story; for them and for the person she sensed in the hall listening. She strongly suspected it was Marissa, eavesdropping. Let them all get an earful, she thought gleefully, and go so **very** enviously green in the process.

''Well, see, that night, Friday night, after the shoe-ruining; he invited me in for coffee. To warm up from the night air, you know?'' All of her listeners nodded in rapt attention, even Summer looked charmed to be hearing the story again. ''We got to talking and, next thing we knew; it was morning. He didn't want me taking a taxi barefoot….'' There was a collective sigh at the chivalrous nature of the boy under discussion. A rep he more than deserved, in her opinion. ''Seth and Sandy had the cars, so we called my Mom to come get me.'' She hoped the eavesdropper heard how easily, how confidently she called Mr. Cohen by his first name. How quickly she was entitled to do so.

''I bet she was **pissed**.'' Terry said, the only one of them who'd met her mother, even briefly. She got the feeling the pale blonde girl avoided her just to **never** have to encounter Veronica Townsend, ever again. It was a shame, really. Of them all, she was the nicest.

''She seemed more upset about **when** I called her then who I was with.'' Which was true enough, just not the complete truth. Taylor didn't see telling any of **them** the complete truth, though. Ryan, definitely; but none of these girls, not even Summer, needed to hear **all** of it. ''She said, let me think……'' She drew out the moment, tapping one finger to her lips as if in thought. As if her mother's words weren't etched, aching, into the fragile walls of her self-esteem. ''Oh, yes. She said she wasn't going to chauffeur me around to visit degenerates.'' Veronica had actually said 'go whoring with' but she wasn't about to give **this** group any ideas down** that** street. Her rep at this school was bad enough without people thinking she'd 'put out' on the first date. Not even a date, really; an **encounter**.

''Atwood was meeting Cohen and I for back-to-school, so it made sense to shoe-shop at the same time.'' Summer took up the tale, giving her a sympathetically encouraging look. She appreciated the back up. Even** thinking** about her mother shook her confidence like an earthquake. Richter level six, at least. ''When he found out she was buying a car, he insisted on going along.''

''Oh, he didn't really become **insistent** until I told him what kind of car I wanted.'' Taylor flicked non-existent dust from her nails, checking her manicure. Sure enough, one of them **had** to ask.

''What kind did you want?'' Tammy asked, not really curious, but wanting more dirt to dish later. The information doled out so far was **gold** in their circles. Each of them would be dining on their 'exclusive' for the rest of the week.

''Red.'' She shrugged at their uncomprehending looks. She didn't get what was wrong with that, herself. The Thunderbird **was** red, after all. ''I know, but it apparently violated some macho guy car code.''

''Cohen didn't get what was wrong with it either.'' Summer remarked, smiling at the memory of Ryan's horrified expression. ''Atwood, however, acted like you were shopping Wal-Mart, or something.'' There was a collective shudder at the mention of the ultimate Newport fashion faux-paus.

''Boys.'' Lynn stated feelingly, and everyone nodded their agreement.

''So, you see, I haven't really **stolen** anything. More like; recovered and restored.'' She looked at her watch, wondering how long Marissa was going to make them wait. She was really looking forward to drama club, and not just because she would she **him** again. No, she was anticipating her ten o'clock meeting because ….because …..well, it wasn't **all** about him. No more than eighty percent, anyway.

''I'm not sure Cooper's gonna see it that way.'' Monique told her warningly.

''She already knows, we had breakfast together.'' More confused looks were tossed around the table. Maybe if she mentioned the girl more, Marissa would come in and they could get this meeting under way. Carnival would only be a good 'first official date' if there was a carnival to **go** to and the more Marissa delayed; the more **Taylor** would have to work to get it done, which meant less time spent with Ryan. That **may** be part of her plan, her inner self warned. She can be called many things (whore, abusive, deviant) but stupid isn't one of them. ''She seemed okay with it.'' There was a **very** unladylike snort from Summer.

''Yeah, she's right, Taylor.'' Rachel nodded at the others, who all seemed to be in complete agreement. ''You may have a thing about not going after guys who are taken, but Marissa doesn't have that problem.''

''What problem?'' Marissa asked, finally coming into the room. She had the Social Chair's binder of forms and permits canted on one hip and a huge coffee cup was clutched firmly in her free hand, moisture beading around the napkin wrapper. Taylor didn't think more caffeine was a good idea this early in the morning. She caught a whiff of steam from the beverage as the taller girl took her place and doubted there was** just** coffee in the cup.

''Uhm… the problem….'' Rachel stammered, looking around desperately for support.

''Being jealous of Townsend.'' Lynn said, face set in expectation of a truly magnificent fight. Before Taylor could call her on trying to instigate trouble, Marissa laughed.

''I don't have anything to be jealous **of.**'' She waved a hand unconcernedly, sipping her 'coffee'. ''It's not like it's really a relationship or anything.'' A glance practically shouting 'it's not?' was passed around the table from girl to girl. The air of disbelief in the room made it seem as if the unspoken words were given voice. The girl at the head of the table was driven to answer them. ''Come on, she's **obviously** just using him to get stuff from her mom by pissing her off.''

''Unlike **some** people, I don't pick my dates on how much they irritate my mother.'' Taylor told her calmly. This was a fight that had to happen, sooner or later. She was just glad Ryan wasn't here for this; he didn't need any more drama from this ….. this ……. **child**.

''No?'' Marissa's skepticism was heavy. ''Well, let's look at it from his side, then.'' She ran disdainful blue eyes over the other girl, sneering a little. Taylor didn't even flinch, long used to far more openly scornful expressions. ''Yeah, I'm just not seeing it.'' She glared balefully into Taylor's hazel eyes, sneer sliding into a smirk. ''When he's done trying to make me jealous; tell him I'm not above forgiving and forgetting.'' She sipped her coffee as if already back in his arms. In your dreams, Taylor thought at her confidently.

''You don't really know him at all, do you?'' She commented softly, her awareness of the others fading as she focused on the self-involved, arrogant creature before her. What had Ryan ever seen in her? She wondered. Well, aside from the obvious, her practical side admitted. Whatever else she was, Marissa was still gorgeous. ''You really think he'd use someone like that, betray someone like that?''

''He did it to me.'' There should be points on the committee's ears, they were listening so intently. They were practically holding their breaths, so eager to witness that they didn't want to call even the smallest amount of attention to themselves. Summer looked from one girl to the other, obviously wanting to say **something** and just as obviously not wanting to undermine Taylor's efforts. Marissa folded her arms aggressively at Taylor and frowned. ''That's why we broke up; temporarily, at least.''

''Is that what you think?'' She let amusement color her response, calm and cool and in her element. She wasn't captain of the debate team just because it looked good on a college application, after all. All the hostility she couldn't focus on her mother had to be redirected somewhere, and there was only so much Aikido one could do. She doesn't know who she's messing with, she crowed inwardly. ''You **honestly** think that's why you broke up?''

''Of course it is.'' Marissa looked at Summer, who shook her head, denying the girl her support. She scowled at the betrayal, tone mocking as she locked gazes with her rival. ''What do **you** think it is, since you know **so much** about relationships?''

''I know Ryan. I know him better than** you** ever did, yanking him around for two years.'' Taylor declared, leaning back in her chair, and casually interrupted her rival's next comment. ''He didn't break up with you because he got horny and tired of waiting. He broke up with you because you don't understand him, you don't trust him.'' The taller girl frowned, closing her mouth, and Taylor continued making her point. ''What's his dream? You know, what does he hope to be, after college?'' She got a blank look from the blue eyes, confusion reigned in the other's face. ''Something simpler? Okay, who's his favorite band?''

''He doesn't have one.'' Marissa rallied herself into the fight, confident she knew what she was talking about. Taylor shook her auburn head, smiling pityingly at the still-standing girl.

''Of **course** he has one, you just never bothered to find out who it **is**.'' Taylor let the smile leave her face slowly, glancing out of the corner of her eyes at the other girls, to make sure they were following her argument. To her satisfaction, they were all looking at the Cooper girl with expressions of weary disgust. Looks like Ryan and Summer aren't the only ones getting tired of her attitude, she thought to herself. ''Something even easier, then. Favorite fruit?'' The other just stood there, starting to redden in embarrassment. ''Favorite color?''

''That's trivial stuff.'' She tried to muster scorn, but it just sounded like she was making excuses. Taylor could almost see any respect the other's had for her draining from the room. It was a sweet sensation, bitter in it's satisfaction; as she reminded herself that this girl had been a good person, once upon a time. She couldn't remember when, herself; but it had to be in there **somewhere** for Ryan to have spent so much time and effort to try and reach it. ''We connected on the more important things.''

''Mutual drama isn't a connection; it's just two people who happen to be in the same place when the excrement impacts the rotating blades.'' From the choked noise coming from across the table, Summer got the reference. It would probably take the others the rest of the day to figure it out, although Monique's dark eyes were dancing with amusement. Taylor leaned her forearms on the table, hazel eyes intent on her opponent. Time for the closing argument. ''Ryan and I are more alike than you'd think. And if he ever decides that we don't belong together '' she pushed aside the pain at the very thought and went determinedly on ''then I'll let him go, because I want him to be happy.'' She kept her gaze locked on the girl's widening eyes, the atmosphere of awe in the room was a heady thrill she'd remember for a long time to come. ''I don't care about him because I know the little things.'' She whispered powerfully, emotion raw in her voice, her face. ''I know the little things because I care about him.''

There was a long silence as she stopped speaking, her statement irrefutably honest and starkly romantic. Not even her most hated enemy dared question the sincerity of her feelings for Ryan. Clearing her throat, Marissa began the meeting just as if she'd only then walked into the room. Taylor let her have the salve to her pride, valuing more the look of respect she got from Summer and the grudgingly approving expressions on the other five girls' faces. Terry even clapped her hands against the air when Marissa wasn't looking, cheering the girl she considered victor.

She's not helping her case, Taylor thought to herself as the blonde girl cut across one of her suggestions for the fifth time, telling her it was 'so grade school'. She hadn't even been allowed to finish the suggestion, barely getting out the words 'I was thinking' before being shot down. The others were starting to fidget, and several panicked looks were sent her way when Marissa assigned everyone but Taylor (and herself) phone calls and contacts to make. She mouthed reassurances and passed surreptitious pieces of paper to those in need. Monique's gratefully mouthed 'thank you' filled her with a sense of accomplishment. Even the clock ticking closer and closer to the hour, with no end to the Cooper girl's rambling speech in sight; could dim the thrill of justified satisfaction flowing through her. Just as the clock's hands indicated ten, and she thought she'd have to make a scene to get to drama club; the door was flung open.

''Oops.'' Ryan stood in the doorway, looking in confusion at the crowd of girls. His hair was disheveled and his shirt was half undone, showing part of his chest (still slightly damp with sweat) as he tried to catch his breath. She heard several gasps, one muttered 'oh my god' and felt the need to swallow hard, herself. The boy was** really** too hot for her, for anyone's, own good. His blue eyes flicked to the clock before locking on the table, not meeting her gaze. Something was up. ''I thought this thing was over with at ten?''

''They doing live action in comic club, now?'' Summer asked, motioning at his shirt. He flushed a little, adjusting it. Taylor frowned, his movements seeming a little off, to her. Something was wrong.

''I was at the gym, I forgot all about comic club.'' He turned a pleading gaze to his brother's girlfriend. ''Apologize to Seth for me? I'm gonna be late for drama club as it is.'' Something was **really** wrong for him to forget something that important to his brother. It didn't fit with his responsible nature, or his affection for the other boy.

''You're in drama club?'' Tammy asked the question at the top of the group's mind. Most of the other's sent Taylor looks of mingled respect and amazement. She would've enjoyed the admiration more if she hadn't been worried. All the previous concerns about Hess she'd managed to shove aside, dealing with Marissa; were back, tenfold.

''Looks like Snoopy is making a comeback.'' Marissa's tone was affectionate and teasing; but Ryan acted like he didn't hear, tucking his shirt into his pants with sharp and angry movements. Something was seriously wrong that he didn't snap at the girl or correct her assumptions.

''Ryan's going to be helping us with set design and construction this year.'' Taylor explained, wanting to draw attention away from his brooding attitude. He finished straightening his shirt, practically slapping his watch onto his wrist. ''It'd be nice if they didn't look like cardboard cutouts, like they did last season.''

''Do my best.'' The boy muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His body language was practically screaming 'problem' at her. She started gathering her things, eager to get him out of the room so they could talk.

''Maybe you could help us with the dances, then.'' Marissa suggested, voice laced with implications.

''No.'' His refusal was flat and uncompromising; rude, even. Alarm bells continued to go off in her head. He was here, not under arrest; he'd gone to the gym to hit something instead of running off somewhere dangerous. She kept ticking off these points to keep her concern under control.

''You did pretty well on that bonfire, last year.'' Tammy pointed out, apparently thinking the problem was self-confidence.

''You're doing drama club, so what's the diff?'' Monique asked, flashing him an appreciative smile; turned around in her chair, arms folded lazily over the back of the seat.

''The difference is that sets and bonfires are construction.'' Ryan explained, glancing up as Taylor approached. She nearly stopped at the look in his eyes. ''Dances are interior decoration. So, no.'' His gaze was shame, anger, and despair. It was a lighter mix than it had been the night she'd found him, and the pain and self-disgust were absent; but those were the only positives to it. ''You didn't promise, or anything, right?'' He was stating more than asking her when Marissa blew up.

''Nice to know you think so much of our hard work.'' She snarled, shoving the binder into the middle of the table and stalking out of the room. She pushed at him as she went by and Taylor caught the pained noise he made; inaudible to anyone not standing as close as she was. There was a red area on his upper right arm, where his ex had shoved him, just barely visible past the sleeve of his shirt.

''Bitch.'' Someone muttered behind her. She flicked her gaze to the mark on his arm and raised her eyebrows expectantly at him. He shrugged, looking both embarrassed and angry. Her concern over his meeting with Hess reached near-panic proportions. She needed to get him in the hallway for a briefing, now.

''I got the binder.'' Summer grabbed it, grunting a little at the unexpected weight. ''I'll see you both for lunch.'' Her tone promised dire retribution if she didn't get a complete run-down on the situation. She grabbed her purse and headed off to find her boyfriend. Taylor addressed the others, looking over her shoulder.

''You've all got my number, as well as the contacts. We'll spend more time on the carnival tomorrow.'' They girls scurried into action, snatching up their things and trying not to look like they'd been watching the drama. She was glad to see the smiles on every face, the nods of encouragement. There were some speculative smirks mixed in, but that was only to be expected. Gossip was the life-blood of this place, after all. She took his hand and led him out of the room, twisting her fingers into his; using the thrill of the contact to gain control of her fears. She waited until they were in the hallway approaching the auditorium before she stopped, turning to face him. ''Okay, what happened.''

''It's a little involved.'' He shot an uncomfortable look towards the auditorium doors, then gazed at her with a hopeful expression. ''Can we talk about it later?''

''Maybe I should confront Hess on his obvious abuse of a student…'' She started to suggest, laying her left hand gently on his right forearm. The speed with which he grabbed her by the shoulders was shocking; his grip was almost painful.

''Promise me you won't talk to him without Sandy or Doctor Kim or even fucking **Julie Cooper**. Promise me you won't be alone with **him**.'' He shook her a bit when she didn't immediately respond, stunned at the desperation in his voice. ''**Promise** **me**.'' His voice was hoarse and shaking; but it was the raw and naked terror in his eyes that convinced her. She placed her left palm comfortingly on his chest, directly over his heart.

''I promise.'' She whispered, pressing into his chest a little with her hand. Ryan's eyes bored into hers, testing the sincerity of her oath. His hands gentled on her arms, sliding down to cup her elbows. He hung his head a bit, nodding in acceptance of her promise. ''Now, you promise me something.'' His gaze locked on hers, and she paused, seeing the utter faith he had in her, in her judgment. He would promise her anything right now, she saw, touched by the surety. ''Promise me we'll talk about what happened. **Today**, okay?'' He placed his left hand gently over hers, smiling tenderly at her

''I promise.'' Ryan whispered. His expression was already calmer, the swirl of negative emotions in his eyes gentler; with a light of hope deep down.

They probably would've stood there for the rest of the day, reading each other's eyes, if she hadn't heard a muffled noise from the auditorium; reminding her of prior obligations. Stepping back, reluctantly removing herself from his grasp, she moved towards the auditorium. He followed her, one hand at the small of her back as he held the door for her. The people on the stage, who'd been having an argument if the looks on their faces were any clue; went silent and turned expectantly to the doors. There were several nudges and significant looks exchanged between the club members.

''You're late, Townsend.'' Olivia called out, voice mocking. ''Make-out session go into extra innings?'' Most people laughed and she felt Ryan tense next to her. She touched his arm lightly as they moved forward, trying to convey that this attitude was something they could handle together. Although, she wanted to smack the laughing students as well; more for the stress they were putting him through.

''Social committee ran a little long. Marissa had a lot to say.'' Taylor caught the querying look he shot her out of the corner of her eyes. She decided to let Summer tell **that** story, so it wouldn't sound like she was criticizing his ex. Resentment for the girl aside, she really didn't want to lite into someone who wasn't there to defend themselves. It just didn't seem right to her.

''I wonder why.'' Danielle commented wryly, raising her eyebrows as the two of them finally reached the stage. ''You've only been drooling over her guy for two years. Guess congrats are in order that you finally bagged him.'' She felt her face flush hotly. She'd never intended to let Ryan know how long she'd been lusting after him, it was humiliating.

''She's not the **only** member of the Atwood Lust Club in **this** room, now is she?'' Trevor moved out of the shadows, expression slyly supportive. Several of the girls looked away, blushing, at the catty tone to the comment. He jumped down off the stage and hugged her, pinning the folders in her right arm against his chest. ''Hey, sweetie.'' Ryan tensed again, narrowing his eyes at the boy dressed entirely in black.

''Hey, Trevor.'' She patted his back with her left hand, trying to convey through body language how little her guy had to worry about. Not from **Trevor**, anyway. She moved forward, heat fading from her face, to take command of the situation. Here we go again, she thought. ''Okay, people, I'm only going to say this once; so listen up.'' She took a deep breath, more concerned about Ryan's reaction to the other students than telling her tale again. At least, with this crowd, they wouldn't be interested in as detailed a rendition. ''I was in France when they broke up and we only started seeing each other this last weekend. Now.'' She set her purse on one of the seats, opening her drama club folder. ''Ryan is here to help with sets, props, lighting; stuff like that.''

''Oh thank **God**.'' Trevor gushed, pulling her startled boyfriend into a brief hug. She sent the slimmer boy a warning look, knowing how he was. ''I may be an absolute fashion **genius**; but all those tools…..'' He waved his hands expressively and the set, jealous look that had come over Ryan's face when the other boy had hugged her faded in surprised understanding. ''Me** and** my thumbs thank you; Ryan, isn't it?''

''Yeah.'' Ryan stuck a hand out to shake, looking uncomfortable as Trevor gripped it firmly between his, holding on longer than was necessary. She sent him another warning glare as the other members of the club drifted over to greet the newest recruit. 'He's gorgeous' the slim boy in black mouthed at her; smiling in unrepentant, teasing approval. She smiled back, unable to really argue.

''So, I have the list of plays the administration has approved.'' Taylor declared, calling the group's attention back to her. They had a lot to do if they wanted to make this year better than the last three. Some of the members were hoping to use the performances as part of their application portfolios to Julliard.

Everyone found places to sprawl or sit around the stage, settling down to listen. Ryan perched on the edge of stage, on the fringes; watching her with proud affection. She schooled herself not to look his way, not wanting to get caught in his intense blue gaze. The rest of the meeting went well, picking out two plays instead of the usual four; recognizing how involved spring semester was going to be for most of them. She gave the folder for spring selections to her junior class deputy, dismissing the majority of the others to start arranging tryouts and to determine what they had they could use and what they would need to acquire. She walked the girl through what kind of obstacles she could expect to encounter and what kind of effort was usually involved in producing a play at Harbor. The other went off, chattering with her little circle of friends. She was suddenly alone, nothing to focus on at that precise moment. A familiar voice pulled her attention around to a small gathering of people just off-stage.

''The sound, lighting, electrical……those systems are all solid.'' Ryan was saying to the other technical members of the club; taking casual control of the group. He really tends to underestimate his own charisma, she thought, seeing the enraptured look on most of the faces. Okay, most of the **girl**'s faces, really. The guys were just grateful to have someone around who knew what they were talking about. Drama club really didn't tend to attract guys like Ryan, who knew one end of a hammer from another and could change a fuse without blowing the power grid. She flushed a bit, remembering when that had happened during a performance. Her mother had gone on for **months** about that one. ''Your sets suck, though. I thought Taylor was kidding about the cardboard cutouts.'' He looked over to see her watching him, smiling that special little smile that was just for her. She felt her stomach flutter at the appreciative look in his blue eyes. ''I think I'll go see what we can squeeze out of the director for set construction.''

''Don't be too proud to offer your body for a larger share of the budget.'' One of the guys joked, causing her guy to blush a bit as he headed her way. The group chuckled, a kinder amusement than the earlier laughter.

''Hey.'' He stepped up close to her, touching her arm lightly. She was glad to see that his gaze was even calmer now. The darkness she'd seen in the hallway was hard to spot; buried under the thrill of new friends and a new project. She congratulated herself on the obviously super suggestion that he join drama club. He was enjoying himself, something she got the feeling didn't happen that often.

''Hey, you.'' She smiled at him, hazel eyes sparkling happily as she teased him. ''Going to make me an offer I can't refuse?'' He smiled back, suggestively; dropping his gaze to her lips, tongue peeking out briefly to moisten his. Taylor swallowed, mouth suddenly dry at the expression of desire that filled his face. Mon Dieu. Quick, she needed a distraction or she'd start making out with him right there on the school stage. While the other club members might appreciate the show, she didn't want to give the rumor mill any more depraved ideas than they already had. ''Uhm…..Drama club's not too terrible after all, huh? Looks like you're fitting in pretty well, everyone's very friendly and welcoming…''

''Some more than others.'' Ryan muttered, looking over his shoulder at Trevor, turning back to her with a red face when the other boy blew him a kiss. ''Can't you ask him to tone it down? Looked like the two of you are friends.'' His eyes were questioning, without the heavy tone of accusation they'd had this morning; when he'd encountered her little white lie of omission. He was apparently remembering her saying that night that she didn't have any friends. This time, however, he was giving her the opportunity to explain the discrepancy; his gaze calmly expectant.

''Trevor said he couldn't be my friend as long as I listen to my mother.'' Taylor confessed, looking away from his sympathetic face. He tilted her face back up to look at him, fingers gentle under her chin. His smile was in his eyes, dimmed by his solemnly approving expression.

''So **that's **why I like him.'' He teased lightly, dropping his hand before they could lose control of themselves. While she loved the way his eyes darkened with desire whenever he looked at her, touched her; she knew there were much better places for such impulses than the center of the school stage. There were already sly, knowing looks being sent their way; it wouldn't be long until there were catcalls and shouted comments. Ryan stepped back, trying to lessen the charge to the air between them. ''Lunch break, boss?'' He asked, voice raised so others could hear him. From the laughter his query garnered, she supposed there was something special about the phrasing. She'd have to ask him about it later, after their Hess discussion.

That thought sobered her and, since they'd gone half an hour past the expected cut-off of twelve, she decided the meeting was over for the day. She gathered everyone back together; settling the minor disputes that had arisen and dividing up the budget. Some people made teasing comments when she revealed the amount that set construction would be receiving, but Taylor silenced their whispers with a stern look. Ryan gathered her folders for her, leaving her just her purse to retrieve. Trevor waved to them as the group broke up, making a big show of being afraid of one or the both of them when they looked his way.

''Okay, what was **that** about?'' She asked her guy, matching gait with him automatically as they headed to where they were meeting Seth and Summer. ''You didn't threaten to punch Trevor Douglass, did you? He's **harmless**, really, he just loves to flirt with everyone. And he's just completely, unbelievably **fabulous** with costuming; he'll be a top-notch designer one day, if he starts using a little self-discipline.''

''Is that Douglass as in **Taryn** Douglass?'' Ryan asked her, face twisting in rueful amusement when she nodded. ''That explains a** lot**.'' When she frowned at him, not liking the stereotyping of her oldest non-enemy, he blushed lightly, shrugging. ''Taryn has a tendency to …..touch.'' Her mouth popped open as she realized what he meant. His blush got deeper when she started to smile. It was just **too** funny. ''One of the main reasons to hate Newport parties.''

''Poor baby.'' Taylor cooed, taking his arm and trying not to snicker at his embarrassed expression. ''All this lascivious attention …..''

''Oh, I got him to stop.'' At her concerned look, he smiled reassuringly, the blush fading a little as he spoke. ''I told him if he didn't back off, my girlfriend would kick his ass.'' He waved at the two approaching brunettes, altering their own path to converge with that of their friend's at a point closer to the parking lot.

Taylor felt her heart swell at his casual comment, thrilled that he already thought of her **that** way. She knew that, with Ryan, it was the unconsciously spoken, and occasionally unspoken, words that would be most important, the most telling of his true feelings. She quelled the tiny, niggling doubt (that sounded uncomfortably like her mother) that said he'd called her his girlfriend as an emotional shield against Marissa. There was no **way** he'd ever use her like that, no way he could hold her and kiss her as tenderly, as reverently as he did and **not** think of her as his, as special.

The giddy excitement she felt at his affection nearly quelled the nervous flutter of concern over the Hess situation.


	5. Julie

''Julie.'' Sandy's voice was surprised. And well it should be, she thought. Surprise visits weren't her style, anymore. Her schedule was far too tight for impulsiveness, these days. His shock at seeing her, which made him step back, was especially understandable since, it being Monday; they would see each other at the Newport Group offices. Only she didn't want to have this discussion at the office. She didn't want to have this conversation at **all**; but this house was a far better, far more secure location to get this man's desperately needed advice and support.

''Sandy. We need to talk.'' Julie Cooper-Nichol moved forward, striding confidently into the Cohen house. The pantsuit she was wearing, the minimalist jewelry and lack of make-up; was meant to convey her professionalism and seriousness. She just felt uncomfortable and fake, missing the comfortable weight of her fashionable armor. She noted the way his blue eyes flicked over her outfit as he closed the door behind her. Not** that** way, of course, he was too good a man for **that**. He was just noticing details; like her uncharacteristic attire, the small shake to her hands as she removed her sunglasses.

''It's not Marissa, is it?'' He asked her, brow furrowed in concern. ''She called last night. I didn't really get a chance to talk to her, but Summer said she seemed okay.''

''It's not my daughter, it's my company. I mean, our company. I mean, **Kiki's** company.'' Julie sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead. What had ever possessed her to think she could do this? Sure, she was good at getting tight-fisted, tight-assed Newport men (and women) to part with their money. How did that translate into running this little empire of Cal's? She could see why it had turned him into such a bitter, ruthless man; how it had driven Kiki to drink. She wanted a drink, herself.

''I was just on my way to the office.'' Sandy waved a demonstrative hand at his suit, his briefcase. She nodded absently, moving to stand uneasily in the living room. He followed her, concern filing his eyes. ''I just wanted to see the boys off to registration.'' Now his expression was expectant, curious. 'What couldn't wait half an hour?' his face was asking.

''It's Jimmy.'' She flinched at her own words, feeling like a traitor. She felt the prick of tears in her eyes, let Sandy guide her to a seat on the couch. She sucked in a breath, blinking back her emotion as he took a seat on a chair nearby. ''He disappears, sometimes; and I can tell he's lying about where he goes. At first,'' she shook her head at her own self-involved foolishness ''I thought he might be having an affair. I mean, not **technically** an affair, as we're not married; but we've been…..''

''I get the general idea, Julie.'' He looked uncomfortable, as he always did when she talked about her personal life. She smiled at the amusing familiararity of it.

''There've been phone calls he won't talk about, conversations he cuts short when I come in the room. I'm just getting an uneasy feeling….'' She dabbed at her eyes with her fingers, trying to finish what she'd started, to stick to her decision. ''It feels like it did two years ago, when…..'' She couldn't go on, couldn't **believe** what she was thinking, couldn't give voice to her suspicions and make them real.

''When he stole the money?'' She nodded miserably at his question, dropping her eyes to her lap. ''You're sure it's not just……well….'' She looked up to see him reddening, motioning with his hands and not really wanting to finish **his** thoughts, either. Julie smiled, entertained despite the situation.

''I'm **sure**, Sandy. There's no problem there, we've never been better…..'' She smiled wider as he hurriedly interrupted her suggestive tone.

''So what do you want to do?'' Sandy asked, piercing her with his intelligent gaze. There was only a small flutter of jealousy over the man Kiki had as opposed to the one she still loved, more than a little. This is too important for that petty nonsense, she scolded herself.

''I want to hire a private investigator.'' She straightened her shoulders, green eyes meeting his gaze squarely. ''Actually, I want **you **to hire someone. Someone who has experience tracking down this …… accounting kind of thing.'' She hated how stupid she sounded, swallowing the sour taste of inferiority. ''Someone who can keep a secret without having to be black-mailed.'' Memories of Lance made her blush, a bit; still humiliated over the entire incident. Sandy didn't even notice, looking inward as he considered her idea.

''I have a few guys in mind; no one Jimmy would be able to find out about.'' She nearly collapsed in relief that he understood she was just trying to be smart; wasn't trying to bypass her responsibility. He focused on her once more, look approving and ….grateful? ''Thanks for thinking of Kirsten. She doesn't need to know about this.''

''What, that her best friends are stabbing her in the back and running her father's company into the ground?'' Julie remarked sarcastically, shaking her head sadly. ''Of **course** I don't want Kiki to know. It's why I plan on quitting as soon as we can find someone else.'' She weighed her fear of an uncertain future against disappointing the one person in Newport who actually liked her and felt no regret at her decision. Well, maybe a little, materialistic niggling. She'd miss the mansion, eating at the club; her car and her clothes. And maybe she'd miss having power over all those arrogant people who'd looked down on the girl from Riverside. Just a little.

''Quit?'' Sandy sound shocked, sitting back in his seat, tilting his head at her curiously. ''Why would you quit? You're doing great.''

''Don't patronize me, Sandy, I know **exactly** how out of my league I am.'' She snapped at him. ''You just don't want to end up with this soul-sucking job. Bad enough you've got to be our conscious and act like you don't want to see the whole place go down in flames.'' Her tone was sharper than she really intended, but the disappointment over Jimmy, the blow to her pride at out inadequate she felt was starting to effect her judgment.

''I'm **not** patronizing you. And I don't want to see the Newport Group destroyed and not just because of how it would effect Kirsten.'' Sandy leaned forward to put a hand on her arm, freezing her in place with his sincere seriousness. ''That company can do a lot of good, **you** can do a lot of good; and you're just the kind of leader that place needs.'' He squeezed in supportive confidence and removed his hand, smiling at her teasingly. ''That place is a shark pit, granted; but **you're** a great white, Julie. You'll get a handle on it.''

''How?'' She almost wailed it, feeling the veneer of her confidence crumbling. She was so overwhelmed, spent most of her days feeling so stupid and lost and lonely, despite James's attention. ''I don't understand half of what's going on, most of the time, and even when I do, it turns out I'm days behind. My secretary knows more about how to run things than I do. I'm not Kiki, Sandy; I've never been to college, I'm not smart enough to…''

''You can stop **that** right now.'' Sandy snapped back at her, frowning. She faltered, eyes widening at the look of anger on his face. He shook his head, looking away from her, tone disdainfully sarcastic. ''You sound like Ryan used to; telling me his scores were a fluke and no Atwood has ever finished high school.'' He turned his gaze back, scowling with a complete lack of patience. ''So you never went to college. So what? Go now. There's night classes, vocational institutions, correspondence courses; it's not unheard of for a woman to return to school and start a career after her children come of age.''

''You really think I could do that?'' Julie asked, feeling a little taken aback by the idea. College? Her? She gave voice to some of her concerns.. ''At my age? Not that I'm old or anything; middle age, I mean. Upper young adult, maybe.'' She swallowed nervously. ''Not to mention that this would get out and the people in this town….''

''The term is unconventional students'.'' He laughed, standing; causing her to rise as well. ''And as for any opposition..'' he snorted derisively ''…you're Julie Cooper-Nichol. These people lived in fear of you **before** you ran the Newport Group. If you **really** want to step into Cal's shoes, well; you've got the intimidation down already.'' Sandy stared at her challengingly. ''Not that it won't be hard, but I never thought** you**, of all people, would back down from a fight.''

''We Cooper **women** are fighters.'' Julie agreed, then frowned. ''Wait, what about the girls? I can't really run the company, go to college, and be there for my girls. Two of the three, maybe, but not** all** of it. I'll have to cut something.'' Her heart sank a bit at what the obvious choice was. Just as she was getting excited about the idea, too. Showing all those whispering, superior people at the office what she was capable of.

''So cut back on the office, do the schooling part-time.'' Sandy didn't even suggest cutting back with her daughters and she was flattered that he believed it had never even occurred to her. ''We can hire someone to fill in the gaps.''

''Someone who can take over when you leave.'' He raised those ridiculous eyebrows at her and she shrugged, grabbing up her purse. ''You're not staying, Sandy, I've always know that. You'll be out of there as soon as Kiki comes back.'' There was a minute flinch when she mentioned his wife. She hoped it was because her friend was delaying her return, not that there was any **real** problem. She didn't think she could stand finding out that the stability of this, the ideal marriage, was crumbling even a** little**. Maybe **she** should visit Kiki? Always provided she could find the time, of course.

''True.'' His eyes sparkled at her in conspiratal confidence. ''If you'll excuse me, my boss just handed me a top-secret project, and I'd like to get started.'' Right, the James situation. Not even that crushing disappointment could dim the new hope she was feeling.

''Of course, of course.'' Julie waved a hand permissively at him, moving towards the front door. ''Take the day, Sandy, you look tired. I'll handle that other thing.'' She wanted to do this herself, wanted to prove she didn't need someone to hold her hand and do **for** her.

''Julie.'' He held the door for her, gentleman to the core. He really did look tired, she thought. They **definitely** had to hire someone; for his sake as well as her schedule. Kiki would **never** forgive her if she worked the man into the ground.

She slammed the door on her car, staring blankly at the steering wheel. Finally nodding to herself, decisions made; she started the engine. First, she was going home to change back into her designer camouflage. Then, to the mall; and **not** to the clothing stores this time. They had books at the mall, right? Perhaps she should stop by the school library first, say she was researching college options for Marissa; get some material on this idea of Sandy's. No,** city** library; no one there would know who she was or see through her flimsy story. **Then**, the mall. Maybe a **little** clothes shopping, she decided; as a reward for the new direction of her life. Pick up something cute for her oldest, something Blahnik or Chanel. She pulled out of the Cohen's driveway, feeling in control of her life for the first time since the Cotillion debacle. Look out Newport, she thought, here comes the new, improved Julie Cooper-Nichol.


	6. Seth

''Okay, **that** was a little weird.'' Seth commented, settling himself into the passenger seat of Taylor's car. He was a little nervous, his girlfriend had regaled him with a story about how the other girl drove like a maniac. He flinched when she started the car, gripping his seatbelt convulsively. ''I would've thought he'd want to ride with you, since we're not racing or anything. Did you….'' his stomach swirled with fright ''….did you guys have a fight? It's nothing to worry about if you did, me and Summer fight all the time, and it's not….''

''No, we didn't fight.'' Taylor assured him, frowning as she backed her vehicle out of the parking space. ''He just wants to wait the talk until we get to your house and he knows that you or I would worm the story out of him.'' This was true, if for different reasons. One of the benefits of Seth/Ryan time was cumulative. At the beginning, it'd taken hours to get the other to speak even monosyllabic responses. Now, Ryan would occasionally, **very** occasionally, come looking for **him**. And of course, this girl could get into the guy's head without even half trying. She sighed, easing her car into traffic. ''It must be pretty bad for him to only want to talk about it once, and to want your father there.'' This was so. The look of relief that had swept over that face when he'd found out Sandy was home had been intense. That translated into 'big problem' in the Seth Cohen dictionary.

''Yeah.'' Not only were they dining with the family panic button; but they were, at Ryan's insistence, eating at home. A private venue; meaning no eavesdroppers and no limit on anyone's responses. Seth was starting to get that uncomfortable feeling of danger hovering at the edges of his perception. His Cohen sense was tingling. The fact that **Taylor** was nervous, shooting her guy significant looks as they decided who would ride where;** that** was a huge sign of impending doom in his book. Only the fact that Ryan wanted to talk, was going to reveal the problem before it exploded all over them;** that** was the good omen. The two images rested on a scale in his mind, tilting back and forth as he tried to figure out what was going on. ''You don't have **any** idea what this is about?'' He asked the girl driving, desperate for something to ease his worry.

''Something to do with the new dean.'' Yeah, he'd figured **that**; but it didn't ease any concerns. This 'dean of discipline' could have several reasons to talk to his brother, none of them good. On the up side, Taylor's driving was far more sedate than he'd been led to believe. He was beginning to see what his sweetie meant, (about her having Cohen-like tendencies) as she changed the subject to avoid talking about the current crises. ''You should have seen him at drama club.''

The girl entertained him with her chatter, telling him about this guy Trevor and how he was flirting with Ryan. It was hilarious, nearly hysterical in it's induction of laughter. He couldn't **believe** the amount of material he was getting to torture the guy with, lately. He didn't have any funny stories to tell **her **(that didn't involve one of Ryan's previous girls) so he just re-hashed the social committee meeting with her that Summer had told him about; then regaled her with the happenings in comic club. Zach was still there, amazingly, so things had been a little tense until he realized the guy was completely over Summer; he was just pushing for the next chapters of Atomic County. So he'd had to explain about the breakup and Ryan's near meltdown and the advent of the Taylor. **Now** the producer for his one-time hobby was nearly **rabid** for the next chapters **and** Leon and the others had made him swear to keep them updated on Situation Atwood. Sometimes he thought those geeks were worse gossips than any girl, or the Newpsies, even.

''Here we go.'' They reached his house and he was relieved to see, as he entered the kitchen, his father unpacking the take-out to Summer's rendition of the Social Committee Smack Down'. Ryan's eyes lit up on seeing Taylor as he fiddled nervously with the plates. ''Deli delivery. Good choice for the drama dining, Dad.'' He ignored the dark looks everyone sent him at breaking the happy mood. Well, everyone but the girl beside him. He was starting to appreciate her no-nonsense practical approach to these things. ''Take a note, dude, that we will not be accepting a full mouth to delay this any longer. You know the more you put it off, the worse we think things are. You don't want to give my little Jewish man a heart attack, right?''

''All right, Seth.'' Ryan agreed with him, but his gaze was locked on his girlfriend, like he was agreeing with **her**. She smiled at the other boy encouragingly, stepping forward to stand supportively beside him. They bumped elbows, exchanging one of their 'sharing' looks. God, they were worse than his parents, sometimes.

They all sat down at the table, passing the sandwich makings around with uneasy efficiency. Ryan started to talk as he ate; voice low and solemn, not looking at anyone. Seth felt a growing horror as the conversation with Hess was recounted, then dissected by their father; the details and nuances drawn out in their entirety. Summer frowned, going silent and contemplative, brow furrowed in thought. Jesus **and** Moses, this was **horrible**. It was so horrible, he felt like vomiting. He looked desperately to Taylor, and was surprised and a little relieved to see her smiling confidently. Oh, thank God. Going from the look on her face, she already had a plan. It would have to be a doozy. There was a tense silence as his brother finished speaking, and blue eyes were raised to search the face of the girl next to him. She was calm, acting like nothing was wrong at all.

''Well, I see his petition, if he even has one, and raise him one movement.'' Taylor declared, draining the last of her drink decisively.

''You have a plan.'' Seth felt faint from the relief, sure now that his lunch was going to stay down. So far, every plan she'd come up with had been a success. Perhaps not rousing, but successful nonetheless. Summer's description of how the girl had taken down Marissa and the social committee only furthered his faith.

''I have a plan.'' She nodded confidently across the table at him, smiling. The only one who didn't relax slightly was his Dad, who still looked a little pissed. Uh-oh.

''I think we should bring charges. Laying his hands on a student…..'' The man began, frowning at Ryan concernedly. Yeah, he wasn't that happy about that part of the story, himself. His Dad looked ready to start a crusade, though, which might not be the best way to go, here. He reminded himself that Taylor knew how the adult mind worked, her plan probably included his father in a key position; both for the man's piece of mind **and** his expertise in the court room.

''With what proof? No one else saw it; it'd be my word against his.'' Something about his brother's phrasing, the look on his face, was familiar. He frowned, trying to think, but Taylor interrupted his memory-hunt.

''The best counter to blackmail** is** exposure, Sandy.'' Taylor commented reasonably, clasping her hands together on the table in front of her.

''Okay, what level of exposure are we talking here? Are we talking Hugh Downs or National Enquirer? CNN? Hey!'' He leaned forward excitedly, encouraged by the girl's talk of a movement'. ''I have a geek army, don't I? We could …. Wait, what's the plan, now?'' Seth looked across the table expectantly. He **really** wanted to help and she had more than proven she could handle these kind of things with almost magical ease. That thought gave him ideas for her character; he shoved them aside to think about later.

''Ryan…..?'' The guy locked gazes with her, frowning. ''Part of this has to be top-secret….nothing against my promise, I swear.'' Okay, promise? Top secret? He exchanged a determinedly curious look with his girlfriend. They **had** to get to the bottom of this. Later, though, because their General was speaking. ''A lot of people are going to know about this…..not details, no; but we can't counter his bluff without showing one or two cards.'' There was a feel of breath being held around the table, of expectation. He watched the other boy relax as he stared at the girl beside him.

''I trust you.'' Ryan laid his hand over hers, like he was taking an oath. Seth heard the sigh from his girlfriend, saw his father with 'The Nana' expression on his face. The one that led to ten pound hints about 'relationships' and invitations to family celebrations for the girl in question. Not that that would be a bad thing, he was fully supportive of anything that made his brother squirm. Being tortured at the mall squirm, not being expelled squirm, that is.

''So, what **do** we do?'' Summer interrupted the sap, tapping her fingers firmly on the tabletop to gain Taylor's attention. The other girl shrugged apologetically, but didn't take her hand out from under Ryan's.

''Well, to start with…. Sandy….'' She looked towards his father with a solemn expression. ''The board wouldn't have hired a 'Dean of Discipline' to deal with **one **student.'' Everyone twitched, and he kicked himself for being so thrown by the crises he hadn't thought it through. From the look on the old man's face, he was doing the same internal self-abuse. ''Nor do I think that Ryan's is the only case under review at this meeting, no matter what Hess implied.''

''Kirsten always knew more about how that place operated.'' Sandy said contemplatively. This was true, the Kirsten had had their whole community wired. Seth had the sudden thought that **this** might be what was needed to pull his mother back home, but didn't dare voice the suggestion. She'd be home when **she** was ready, not when he wanted her to be. Depressed, he refocused attention on the conversation, wanting to deal with the problem he** could** handle. ''So, he can't really do anything to Ryan; no letter in his file?''

''Well…..'' Taylor hesitated, looking around the table. ''If his viewpoint is presented unchallenged, then the letter will probably be added.'' She raised her free hand to forestall protest, and Seth felt another surge of respect for this wonderful girl. She was so much more than good for his brother, and he felt ashamed of himself that he'd never tried to be friends with her. In his own defense, though; she was **very** intimidating. She was **almost** as scary as his Summer. He put his arm around his girl, letting the dynamo across the table lay out their strategy. ''We **are** going to challenge his presentation, however. Now, all he has is innuendo and hearsay, he has nothing truly concrete to back his allegations.''

''If he has Ryan's juvenile record, and I'd love to know who gave him a copy; he's got facts to back up his innuendo.'' Sandy sounded reluctant to play devil's advocate, but determined to cover all their opponent's advantages. Before destroying them, of course, his son thought.

''Which we counter with showing how Ryan has changed, the support of the community .'' She nodded as if it were already a done deal and Seth felt his confidence falter, wondering if she was really as sane as he thought. Support of the community? **This **community? She **was** nuts. ''Speaking of your past, we need to get testimony to refute your official record. Neighbors, teachers, social worker…….there must be** someone** in Chino who'd be willing to go on record as to what a stand up person you are.''

''There were some.'' Ryan was doing his avoidance stare at the table, looking really uncomfortable, and not in the funny way he had at the mall. Taylor plowed on as if she didn't see it, but he saw that she moved her hand out from under his brother's to lay over it, instead. The guy took a deep breath, looking calmer almost at once. There was that Nana look on his Dad's face, again. He agreed, but thought it was way too early to start picking out the china. Next week, maybe.

''So Sandy can look them up and get their affidavits. Now, Summer….'' His girlfriend sat up straighter, smiling at the other girl. ''I seriously doubt he actually** has** a petition. My mother is head of the Parent's Association, and I definitely would've heard of it before **now**. So, since the parents aren't on **his** side, we can get them on **ours**.''

''No offence, Tay, Atwood; but that's going to be one short list.'' The brunette protested her assignment, no doubt wanting something with a better chance of success. He thought it would be better to assign her to the students, himself. After all, who could resist the glory that was Summer?

''Yeah, Ryan's not exactly on the Newpsie's Chrismakkuh list. No offense, dude.'' Seth shook his head at the flaw in an otherwise brilliant scheme.

''None taken, it's kind of a point of pride.'' His brother and Sandy exchanged grins, proud of their outcast status. Ryan's faded into a frown of contemplation at Taylor's next words, while Sandy's just got bigger with startled pride.

''How many of your fellow students have you helped, being part of the SADD safe driving program? I bet their parents are **very** grateful to have gotten them home safely, all those times.'' Sandy twitched with surprise and Seth frowned. Was **that** what all those late night 'emergencies' had been about? He'd always assumed they'd had something to do with Marissa. Even if only half of them had been, that still left about…….Moses, it left about thirty DUI's the guy'd helped prevent. And who knew how many fatalities related to those DUI's? He wondered when this had started: before or after Luke's fateful crash? He **really** needed to talk to the other boy; Seth/Ryan time was approaching necessity. ''Give Summer the list of names.'' She addressed the other girl again. ''You can start with those, your Dad, any of the others you can get to talk to you. All we need is a signature, don't give up until they scrawl their name. Uhm…'' Taylor looked nervously at her boyfriend. ''I think you'd probably better play it safe and skip **my** Mom, though.''

''Didn't even have to tell me **that**, Tay.'' Summer responded emphatically. Yeah, he didn't relish the thought of his woman going mano-y-mano with Veronica Townsend. Summer was Summer; but that woman scared **Taylor, **which meant she had to be a Galactus-level mega-witch.

''What about me? My minions and I stand ready, General Townsend.'' Seth saluted, only half-mockingly, and congratulated himself on making everyone smile again. Even Ryan had a tiny amused twist to his face, glaring at him with false annoyance.

''Unfortunately, your minions won't be much help. You need to get the teachers. Start with Principal Kim. If she knows what he's trying to pull, I will be **very** surprised.'' He would, too; Kim was pretty neat and she hadn't been against Ryan since he'd made the honor roll, first semester. Even the Oliver situation had fallen out more** in** Ryan's favor than not. The administration being all **kinds **of embarrassed at having admitted a psycho and suspended the **one** student who spotted it. They exonerated his brother and cleared all mention…….Sweet Jesus, Moses, Mary, and Ruth. **That's** what the guy's face reminded him of: the Oliver thing. Now he **absolutely** needed to corral Ryan, let him know that he had his back, this time. Taylor continued giving him his instructions, apparently oblivious to his epiphany; which relieved him a little. Her being able to read Ryan's mind was creepy **enough**. ''Character references, GPA, test results: all the stuff that usually waits until it's time to apply for college. We'll just be gathering it a few months early.''

''What about me?'' Ryan asked, turning his head to stare intently into her eyes. Seth rolled his, earning a nudge from his girlfriend. He hadn't been annoyed at yet another burning gaze between the two; he just wanted to get the war conference over so that he could talk to his friend. This time, about something **other** than himself. Trying to figure out a character for Taylor and the next chapters of the comic wasn't talking about **himself**, right?

''Oh, you've got the hardest assignment of all.'' Taylor promised, putting her hands on his shoulders in exaggerated sincerity; patting them with overdone concern. ''Nothing.''

''But…..''

''No, she's right, Atwood. See, if you try to help, then you're conceited and think you're better than the other students at Harbor.'' His brother flinched and he put that on the ever increasing list of things to bring up during Seth/Ryan time. They were going to need all night, at this rate.

''Actually, I think he's got a harder role than that.'' Everyone turned to look at him and he looked back, serious for once. ''You've got to keep it under control, dude; no beat downs like you handed Oliver.'' He caught the look of respectful surprise the guy gave him with a pang of regret. He still wished he'd backed his friend at the time, gave him the support and trust he'd more than earned. '' 'Cause I'm thinking the longer it takes Hess to find out what we're doing, the better.''

''True.'' Taylor supported his theory, standing reluctantly, grabbing her purse. ''He can't counter us if he doesn't know the plan, after all.''

''An underground movement against a fascist authority.'' Sandy sounded almost nostalgic, smiling. ''I'm in.''

''And **I've **got to go. Top secret plan to enact, and all that.'' She bent down, kissing Ryan softly on the lips. It was short, they seemed more than aware of their audience, this time; he didn't have to clear his throat once. Then she was gone.

''Okay, can I just say, in honor of our respected leader? Yay!'' Seth treasured the laughter, especially Ryan's; holding his arms over his head in victory for longer than he wanted, just to stretch out the joke.

He helped his sweetie clear the table, stealing kisses as Sandy and Ryan compiled the list of people who would stand up to say the guy was great. His Dad left to start calling people in Chino, clapping his foster brother on the shoulder supportively. Summer read his mind (he didn't mind when it was her) and took the list of drunken refugees the guy had helped to get started on her part of the petition. Finally, Seth/Ryan time.

''So, Play Station?'' Ryan asked, tilting his head hopefully towards the den.

''Nope,'' Seth planted himself back across the table, dropping his sketchpad before him. ''You missed comic club, so now you have to make up for it by helping me with this new character.''

''Yeah, I'm sorry about that.'' His brother peered at the incomplete sketches taking up half the pages. ''Is that supposed to be Taylor?''

''Not my usual quality, I know.'' He turned the pad sideways so they both could look at it. ''In my defense, I've only known her a couple of days, after all.''

''I've only know her twenty four hours longer than you.'' Ryan teased him, and he was glad to see the return of 'Senior Year Ryan', as Summer had dubbed the happy boy they'd gone car-shopping for Taylor with. Yeah, this was obviously a great idea. Keep the guy distracted from the Despot Dean (good possibility for a story arc, there; he'd have to see how things played out) and thinking of his girlfriend, and his brother would remain the cheerful guy he'd been over the weekend.

''True, but those were apparently **quality** hours, unfettered by shopping, school, ex-girlfriends…..'' The other boy shrugged off the mention of his ex, squinting at a particularly bad sketch involving a sweater-cape. Good sign, he told himself. He cant criticize the art all he wants, so long as he remains unaffected by Cosmo …..Drama Queen. ''Okay, see why we need Seth/Ryan time? You have to help me here, dude. We have creepily similar tastes in anime; but other than a talent for organization, all I really know about her is that she likes you. Not exactly the strongest base for a character. I mean, the other characters have their own little genre-accepted roles. Warrior, Kid Chino; wise-cracking guy, yours truly; hot female ninja-like warrior, Little Miss Vixen. I already did the sorceress thing with Cosmo Girl and her flask …… By the way, what do you think of having Cosmo Girl turn to dark forces out of a desire for more power? Adds some depth to the character, I think.'' Still no reaction to the ex, he should stop bringing it up, then. This was supposed to be a year of new things: witness his brother in drama club, and wasn't that a level of mintiness he was dying to exploit. Preferably, with photographic evidence to back his years of future needling.

''Sounds okay.'' Ryan was flipping through his sketch pad, looking at the different takes on Taylor. There was the fully armored knight one, the one in a power suit, the one with the gypsy fortune tell outfit. He shrugged when the other boy smirked at the one with the girl as a gun-toting dirty Harriet. .

''Yeah, not a good concept, I agree. Can you think of anything? I mean, The Organizer is a very lame concept; and the only other ideas I had were all rip offs of the mainstream, and she deserves better than that. I mean, she pretty much healed….…you…….'' Seth snatched the pad back, muttering to himself. He heard the scrape of a chair and frowned. ''Don't go anywhere, I may need to bounce some more ideas off you.'' He didn't even look up at the other's protest that he'd just been getting a drink. After several attempts at nurse-like outfits, or flowing shaman garb, he was ready to scream. Nothing seemed to fit, dammit. He looked back up to see his brother reading a book, ignoring him completely. ''Ryan, now is **not** the time for homework! Although, it you did the summer reading **instead** of the cage fighting and brooding……'' The other boy glared at him, but he closed the book and put it aside. ''Okay, so, not having much luck with the healing thing. Nurse Tay? Healer T? ''

''Why not something French? Taylor likes French.'' Ryan shrugged, frowning as he looked through the recent attempts. ''Yeah, you're right, the nurse thing isn't working.''

''French, something French.'' Seth was muttering to himself. He thought of how easy it had been to name the original characters. Even Anna's Punky Spitfire hadn't been that difficult to come up with. ''Mademoiselle is French for Miss or something, I think. I could use that. Mademoiselle……….mademoiselle what? C'mon, dude, a little help here.'' He snatched his pad back, tapping his pen against the pages. Ryan bit his lip, thinking. ''Okay, brain storming is coming up blank, time for some word association. No thinking, just speak, right?''

''Seth…..'' Ryan's tone was warning and reluctant. Tough. He should be good at this, he practically talked in monosyllables anyway.

''C'mon, you can always skip a word.'' He put real pleading into his expression, trying to convey how desperate he was. Zach had threatened to yank creative control, turning his graphic novel into another industry whore. Seeing what had happened to his boat, he wanted to avoid that happenstance. ''Seth.''

''Annoying.''

''See, you're better at this than you thought. Red.''

''Hot.''

''How common of you.'' He grinned, ducking his friend's half-hearted swing. ''Oliver.''

''Psycho.''

''On that we agree.'' He paused, eyes sorrowful. ''This time will be different, I promise. Hess……''

''Dangerous.'' From the interruption, the warning tone to his voice, and the look on his face; Ryan didn't want to talk about it in any depth, not anymore. Wishing he had his father's persuasive abilities where his brother was concerned, he decided to continue.

'' Summer.''

''Seth's.''

''Wow, that's really nice, dude.'' He grinned impishly at his friend, eager to hear the next association. ''Taylor.''

''Light.''

''Really?'' On one hand, he was enthused. Light was something he could use in the comic. On the other, he was a tiny bit disappointed, in a vicarious, thrill seeking way. From the way the guy had been looking at her, he'd expected something a little more…..raw. ''Okay, see, I can work with that. Mademoiselle Light? No, sounds too close to copyright infringement. So, light. What kind of light? Solar? Lunar? Mademoiselle Luna? No, don't want her to think I'm calling her crazy or anything.'' He didn't want to even imagine what a pissed off Taylor Townsend could accomplish. She could probably make Summer's rage blackouts look like a dimming of the lamps.

''Seth, she **is** a little crazy.'' Ryan sounded happy about that, like it was a main selling point with him. He guessed, after dating Marissa; a girl who was a **little** crazy beat one who was **completely** so. ''Moonlight is good.'' He suggested, looking a little embarrassed about the suggestion. Okay, he needed to squeeze details out of him later. Right now, they had a character to create.

''Well……kind of.'' Seth shrugged at the other's frown. ''Sorry, dude, but you use a character with 'moon' even **implied** in the name, and readers expect to see big….'' He cupped his hands in front of his chest in exposition. His brother's eyebrows shot up in jealous, frowning realization. ''….and I am **so** not drawing your girlfriend with big…..'' He shook his head emphatically. ''All **three** of you would justifiably kill me. No. Not the moon, something similar. The stars? Starlight! Yeah, starlight is good.''

''Star light, star bright, first star I see….'' Ryan blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked away, really embarrassed now. ''Something my mom used to say. Back in Fresno.''

''No, no, that's good, dude. See, I was thinking of just having her **power** come from the stars, or be **like** the stars; but what if she **was** a star?'' Seth rushed forward over the other's confusion, excited by his idea. He snatched the pad back, turning to a fresh page and starting to give form to the image in his head. ''See, someone made a wish…..not you, not Kid Chino's style………Summer! I mean, Little Miss Vixen. Now, why would she …….of course! To try and save Cosmo Girl. Yeah……..'' He sketched, mumbling to himself in creative fervor. He could tell this was a good idea, it was flowing out of him onto the paper with amazing ease; he didn't have to fight for the imagery, as he had the other sketches. The ideas were coming freely, too; spilling out of his mouth as the character too form under his fingers. ''….so, Mademoiselle …….okay, name ……..later……..she hears the wish, and comes down on her mission……''

''But her mother doesn't want her too.'' Ryan put in, getting into the spirit of it. ''So she crashes in the ocean, near where I'm…..where Kid Chino is, I guess.''

''Yeah! Good one. So…….hey! What if she's never been in human form before? I can do a lot of fun stuff with the characters teaching her the lay of the land and all.'' Seth started adding the little touches that gave the character depth and detail.

''And it turns out that not even her powers can help Mar…Cosmo Girl, but she **can** help others.'' His brother's voice was soft, almost embarrassingly tender and wistful. Yeah, the guy was so obviously gone. Sometimes it happened like that, all at once; like a blow to the head. He'd felt that way that afternoon in fifth grade, watching Summer read her poem.

''Like Kid Chino …..…oh! Cosmo Girl put a curse on him, because he tried to stop her from going to darkness. Yeah, good arc there. Maybe even explains what he's doing on the beach, he's trying to cool off or something.'' Seth firmed up the lines of the character's outfit, making sure it was just as he'd pictured it in his head. He was considering asking Summer to ask the girl to pose when he remembered she'd be coming over for 'swimming lessons' with Ryan. He had already decided not to miss a minute of **that**, so **this** just gave him a legitimate reason for his spying. ''So…… a name, a name, what's in a name…...a star name……. can't use any names of actual stars, someone's sure to point out that the star in question is still there. Feh. Nitpickers.'' He complained, completely forgetting that he himself could probably be classed as one of those exacting reviewers. He filled in the background, making lines for light and shadow. Almost finished. He **really** needed that name. ''…..stars…...shine? Gleam? Glitter? Mademoiselle Glitter? Naw, too close to Princess Sparkle, Summer'd kill me. ……. Mademoiselle Star?... Naw……….lessee, stars falling to earth……'' The idea struck a cord in his memory and he grinned, relived. Since it was a different genre, he didn't think there was copyright infringement. That was Zach's concern, anyway. Putting the name below the sketch in elegant calligraphy, he turned it sideways; reviewing the image as he awaited his brother's reaction. ''Voila.''

Standing on the page was a comic book version of Taylor, wearing a Greek toga, sandals woven up to both knees. Around her waist was a silver cord, from which hung a dagger. Because she was a fighter, after all. Still, he was planning on having the dagger be more of a psychic attack, more fitting to the character. Twin silver brooches held the shoulders of the toga, the sleeves slit open to hang like petals down to her elbows. She wore sparkling lights in her ears and around one wrist, with her hair hanging in gleaming lines straight down her back. The figure stood with her palms turned towards each other, one facing up and one down; cupping a glowing ball of energy. Her expression was open, compassionate, intelligent and conveyed a sense of determined capability.

Seth was proud of himself. Not just for the creative burst he'd experienced, was still riding out; but for the rapt look on Ryan's face. The tone of his voice as he read the character's name was reverent and he thought that maybe it **wasn't** too soon for the china patterns, after all.

''Mademoiselle Stardust.''

And so the newest member of Atomic County was born.


	7. Kirsten

**A/N: **A short one but, hopefully, a good one. Call it an interlude, I guess.

-- xxx ---

Kirsten sat in the beautiful garden, surrounded by warm and caring people, and felt nothing but cold and lonely. She wanted to go home, she was **afraid** to go home. She wanted to go back in time, like one of her son's movies, and slap some sense into herself. She knew she'd hurt Sandy when she hadn't gone home with him yesterday, but she didn't want to hurt him even more when ……..if, **if** she relapsed. She honestly didn't think the meetings would be enough. Her family's love hadn't been enough to keep her from this, after all; what was the care of strangers compared to that? She rose tiredly in the glow of the sunset, uncertain and depressed. Mostly, she was afraid of ever again seeing that look of disappointment in her sons' eyes.

She knew from the way Sandy talked about the boys, talked **around** their lives, that something was going on back home. She'd almost given in, wanting to be there for their registration, to watch her boys start their senior year. She was so proud of them both, it wasn't wrong to want **them** to be proud of** her**, too. She was so deep in thought, she didn't notice that her door was ajar; the girl standing in her room took her completely by surprise.

''Excuse me?'' Kirsten asked the girl, sure she must be lost. Probably searching for her mother, poor thing, she thought. A vague sense of familiarity tugged at her, causing her to look more closely at the girl. She had auburn hair tied back in a tail, standing confidently somewhere between Summer and Marissa in height. She was wearing khakis and a Harbor Academy polo shirt; her hazel eyes stared right back at the older woman with a calm certainty. Maybe she **wasn't** lost? Maybe there was a problem at the school? No, they would've called Sandy; or sent someone older, if they couldn't reach him. What was she doing here? ''Do I know you?''

''No, Mrs. Cohen, you don't, not really.'' Okay, the girl **was** looking for her. This was starting to get more than a little creepy. She edged back towards the door and the young lady smiled, nodding approvingly. Kirsten stuck her head out the door, motioning to one of the staff. The attendant at the end of the hall picked up a phone, nodding at her reassuringly. ''Calling security, good move. Well, since my time is to be short, I guess this will have to be blunt.'' She took a deep breath, clasping her hands before her. ''You need to go home.''

''Who **are **you?'' She was starting to get a little mad. She knew Newport gossip was bad, but that didn't give the ladies the right to barge into her life (or send their **daughter** to barge into her life) and make suggestions. Orders, really, from the girl's tone.

''If you were home, you'd know who I am, wouldn't you? You'd know everything that you're missing in their lives.'' The security guard entered, frowning at the girl and motioning her out of the room. She moved easily towards the door, whispering sotto voice as she passed by the older woman. '' You don't want to disappoint them. What do you think you're doing by staying away?''

The girl's words froze her in place, stunning in their simple understanding. She told the guards she wouldn't be pressing charges, distracted by the cascade of her own thoughts, caused by the strange girl. She certainly knows how to catch someone's attention, Kirsten thought. The puzzle of her identity was going to drive her nuts until she figured it out. She thought it might have something to do with one of the boys, but which? They both had girlfriends already and neither were likely to end those relationships. The shirt implied school, which lead her to think it was some sort of club? Maybe, and this was probably what was going on, maybe it was a S.A.D.D. representative? Ryan was on their safe driver list, he'd registered for it his second week. She'd only been too proud to sign off on his reliability and driving skills; thinking amusedly, at the time, that his experience at stealing cars might actually be helpful to drunken Newport teens who'd locked their keys in their vehicles.

Whispered words echoed in her head during dinner, as she prepared for bed. What **did** she think she was doing? She was making sure, she told herself, making absolutely certain that she was completely healed. There was no way Kirsten was going home to her family without being entirely confident that there wouldn't be an 'incident' as some of the attendants so euphemistically put it. Was it possible she'd overestimated her problem? That she was holding herself back? She should probably check on the official evaluation of her status. With a firm plan of action in mind, she was finally able to sleep.

In the morning, she'd talk to the doctors.


	8. SummerB

**-- xxx –**

Summer lugged the social committee binder down the halls of Harbor. **This** was why she hadn't joined the committee in the first place, she thought, all the work. She could be out getting more signatures, if she didn't have to tote this thing in. She had only gotten to the top three families on Ryan's DUI avoidance list, yesterday afternoon. She would've visited more, but she'd had to talk down the angry mothers. Mothers who had to be convinced **not** to take a hit out on Dean Hess, mothers who swore their support (financial, if need be), who called their children and **ordered** them to sign Taylor's petition. Apparently, she mused, Newpsies **liked** kids who kept their precious babies from wrapping expensive cars around light poles. She'd eaten so many little snacks at those meetings; it was a good thing that she was cornering her Dad during his workout, this afternoon.

''**There** you are!'' She was greeted by the five social committee members like a long-lost relative; which was really confusing. Until she noticed that Marissa and Tay weren't there. Well, she expected the later; the only reason **she** was here was the call from Tay, begging her to bring the binder to the meeting, as the other girl was running late and couldn't stop by to pick it up. The committee was, as Tay had predicted,** lost** without either of their leaders. They started chattering at** her**, too fast and complicated to follow; something about permits and food …..probably stuff to do with carnival. Summer dropped the binder onto the table, the loud_ thud,_ silencing the group effectively.

''Okay, gang, one at a time. First off…'' she looked around, brow furrowing ''….where's your fearless leader?'' Not that she wanted to see Marissa, not after the nasty messages she'd left on the Roberts' answering machine; but she didn't know anything about how to do this stuff. All Tay had told her was how to tell which girl was which and to 'hold the fort' until she got there.

''I **called** Marissa.'' The black girl, Monique, spoke up, sounding ticked. Yeah, their social chair had that effect on people, lately. The past month, she'd seemed to perfect the ability. ''She said that we're all a bunch of 'ungrateful loser bitches who don't deserve a carnival'. **I** say we promote Townsend and get** on** with our senior year.'' The brunette couldn't agree more. This was not the year to throw childish tantrums, this was the year to be the mature young women they were. Which was not to say they couldn't have fun; someone just needed to remind Marissa that drama wasn't **fun **for the rest of them.

''Taylor's cell was 'out of the service area' all yesterday afternoon.'' One of the blondes added. She thought, by the curly hair, it might be Terry. Curls are Terry, straight is Tammy, she chanted to herself. Having Tay coach her on the names of the committee members during her call this morning had been genius. ''She's all right, isn't she?'' The girl actually sounded concerned, and not just because they needed someone to organize their events. She remembered that Tay had said Terry was 'kind of nice'. Here, then, was the proof; the look of concern on the other girl's face. Heck, on **all **their faces. Summer wished her new friend was here to see it.

''She's running a little late, but she'll be here.'' She explained, smiling as everyone breathed a sigh of relief. ''She got all your messages and said she'd help out, if Marissa ……'' she looked around the room and shrugged ''Well, I guess since Marissa's not here…..''

''So what happened with that? You seemed to have switched best friends over the summer, Roberts.'' The oriental girl was snide and sarcastic. Oriental and likes to stir things up: that was Lynn, then. ''Cohen must be getting to you.'' She scowled at the implication she couldn't make her own choices.

''Marissa didn't just break up with **Atwood**, she …..'' She didn't want to get into the details of how her friend had hurt her; not with these people. They didn't **really** care, they just wanted good gossip. She crossed her arms at them, continuing to frown. ''You've seen how she's acting, **you** figure it out.'' They had the good sense not to push her for more detail. Cohen's spreading those 'rage blackout' stories apparently had an upside. Good. Wasn't any of their business anyway.

'' It's not like Townsend to be late.'' One of them finally broke the uncomfortable silence, daring to change the subject. Red hair, Rachel, she id'd the girl. She'd been the one to bring up the breakup yesterday, Summer remembered; the one with the little sister in school with Mini Coop. ''Something big must be going down.''

''Or went on last night.'' Lynn snickered suggestively. Ew. She rushed to answer the red-head's question.

''Well, I don't know if you've heard…..'' She told them about the Hess thing, the threats and Taylor's plan; the petitions. She knew there was a good chance they'd already heard, there was** no** **way** the women she'd spoken to yesterday had **not** called everyone they knew, after she left. And just like yesterday, the reaction she got surprised her.

''He can't **do** that!'' Tammy actually sounded terrified. ''How am I supposed to pass pre-cal? How am I supposed to **graduate**, even?''

''What do you mean, Tammy?'' Tay made her entrance, looking as composed as always. The relief in the room was a physical presence. Summer half expected the group to jump up and hug the girl. She knew how they felt. The air of efficient capability that accompanied her new friend everywhere she went was a little envious making, the brunette thought; unaware she possessed much the same self-assured bearing and confident manner. Tay was wearing a polo shirt and slacks, again; a different set then yesterday, but the rushed nature of her morning showed in the lack of variety in her dress, the absence of any jewelry or make-up.

''Sophomore year he was assigned to tutor me in Algebra, I think it was some kind of detention thing.'' Tammy was explaining, still looking panicked. ''And there was a group of us, during one of his study halls, last year. The only reason I **chose** pre-cal as my final math credit was because I thought he'd **be** here. Mr. Schmidt can't explain this stuff for crap.'' She twisted the strap of her purse anxiously. ''It's not just **me**, Ryan kept half the water polo team **playing**, last year, and…..''

''It's okay, we're handling it.'' Taylor handed the girl a clipboard. ''I assume you won't have any problems signing the petition to keep him here, since …..'' The girl was already signing, the others pulling out their pens.

''Now, I got your messages….'' Her friend looked around, sighing. ''Are we sure Marissa can't…….''

''You're deputy social chair, Taylor.'' Terry pointed out, shifting forward eagerly in her chair. ''In the absence or inability of social chair to perform her duties….''

''I say we make it official.'' Monique interrupted, finishing her name with a flourish and passing the clipboard on. ''All in favor of Taylor taking over?'' Every hand around the table went up, a couple put up **both** their hands; even Lynn raised her free hand as she scribbled her name. ''All opposed?'' Summer raised her hand, shrugging at the surprised, dark looks she got. Tay smiled at her understandingly.

''Proxy for Marissa.'' The explanation got a laugh and their new leader smiled, ducking her head shyly.

''Well, okay, then.'' Tay was trying not to act touched, but Summer could tell the voting had moved her. She cleared her throat, giving the girl time to pull herself together as attention shifted to her.

''I was thinking that a gas-guzzling SUV for the raffle may not be such a great idea. I mean, why not a hybrid?'' She suggested, smiling at her friend's grateful look.

''Air quality is important.'' Rachel agreed. ''I mean, we breath it.''

''Yeah, and some of those hybrids are **so** cute.'' Tammy enthused.

''So we'll raffle off a hybrid, then.'' Taylor opened her notebook, making a notation. ''Now, Lynn, I understand that you're having some problems with the entertainment?''

''**Oh**, yeah.'' Lynn leaned in, eyes narrowed at her own paper. ''The balloon guy said he was fully booked,** I** think he was just trying to get more money. The Shenanigans people are available, but……''

''They're **so** political, now.'' Terry complained, shrugging. ''I just don't think they're **funny**, anymore.''

''You had an idea, right Tay?'' Summer prompted. ''Yesterday you were trying to say something.'' Every eye shot to their newly promoted social leader, who smiled confidently.

''Well, I thought; since it's a carnival, we should have appropriate entertainment.'' There were several blank looks, and the brunette admired the other girl's patience with people this slow on the uptake. ''You know: sword swallowing, fire breathing, acrobatics, juggling; things like that.''

''That sounds **awe**some, Townsend.'' Monique told the girl. ''What about the rides? The guy I called didn't seem to speak English.''

''Oh, I'm so** sorry**, Monique, I forgot Manuel wasn't bilingual.'' Tay looked upset at forgetting the detail, holding herself to a higher standard than Summer thought was necessary. If **her** boyfriend was in danger of being expelled, **she'd** be a nervous wreck, not calmly planning a carnival. Girl needs to relax a little, she mused, trying to think of something she could do while still having time to get the parental petition signed. Remembering the swimming lessons, scheduled to start that afternoon, she smiled to herself in relief. Well, it just won't be relaxing for **Ryan**, she thought impishly.

''Don't any of you speak Spanish?'' She asked, trying to keep her friend's calendar clear; so the girl could have her fun with her guy. ''Tay can't do **everything**, after all.''

''I speak Spanish.'' Terry revealed. ''I'll take the ride guy.''

''Tell him we don't want the bumper cars or dunk tank, this year.'' Tay instructed her, the blonde nodded, making her own notes as she accepted a slip of paper from Monique, who looked relieved.

''We're not having dunk tank or bumper cars?'' Lynn, predictably enough, protested.

''Volunteers for dunk tank are too hard to get, and bumper cars just cause people to get hurt.'' Tay told her firmly. Summer thought she was right, those things just didn't **fit** senior year.

''They're **so** lame.'' Tammy agreed. ''The seats get all sticky, and they're hard to handle so you just end up getting shoved around.''

''The boys seem to like them.'' Lynn saw how little support she had and shrugged, changing her position. ''Yeah, okay. I guess all that static electricity isn't good for your hair, either.''

''I was thinking of a carousel.'' Tay was blushing at everyone's startled look. ''Well, we can't do a 'Tunnel of Love' and I was thinking we needed a quiet ride, somewhere you can rest your senses from the Tilt A Whirl, Ferris Wheel, etcetera.'' And it's a ride Mister 'afraid-of-heights' Atwood can handle, Summer thought. She was looking forward to it herself, a carousel being** far** more romantic than a Tilt-A-Whirl, with the added benefit of not having to worry about Cohen getting nauseous.

''That's a **great** idea.'' Terry was writing in her notebook, and everyone else was nodding in agreement. ''Here's the food thing, Monique.'' She handed some slips to the black girl, who looked to Tay with an expectant smile.

''Yes, I had an idea about the food, too.'' Tay admitted, turning to a new page. ''I'm sure we all remember the unfortunate results, last year; when some of the boys ate too much.'' Summer frowned, having been too caught up in the Zach-Seth mess to pay attention to anyone else. Not that she was sorry to have missed vomit.** Ew**. ''I was thinking: minis. Mini-burgers, mini-tacos; things like that.''

''Minis** are** the new super size.'' Rachel smiled eagerly, nodding. ''**And** we can avoid the post-carnival dieting.''

Everyone nodded, starting to jump in with their own thoughts and suggestions. Summer watched quietly as Tay kept them from getting **too** out of hand. She was remembering how Marissa had run her meetings; closing down any ideas that weren't her own with scorn and catty remarks. Her **new** friend listened, supported the good ideas (even if they weren't hers) and gave them reasons for shooting down the bad ones. Summer agreed with her: a chocolate fountain was just a food poisoning nightmare waiting to happen, not to mention the insect factor. Tay took on the really difficult task; clearing everything with the zoning people, the school officials; dealing with permits and other crap that were giving the brunette a headache just to **listen** to.

''You're being quiet.'' Tay commented, gathering her things (including that stupid lead weight of a binder, thank goodness) as the other girls chattered among themselves, dispersing. She looked worried about the brunette, which was typical. Girl has the biggest heart, she thought. Atwood lucked out, good thing he realizes it, or I'd have to pound him.

''Just wondering what **else** we're going to find out about Atwood, doing this.'' Summer returned, brow furrowing, thinking of the surprises she'd gotten, so far. And the year had just barely started.

''He's a very private person.'' Her friend reminded her, smiling. ''I'm sure there's things you know about Seth that would surprise people.'' Hazel eyes canted a sly look at her, teasing. ''For instance: you seem to think he's a good kisser.'' She blushed, closing the door to the social committee room behind them. She had to think of something to say back, couldn't let the other girl get one up on her.

''Well, Atwood must be okay from the way you go all non-verbal after he plants one on you.'' She continued pacing her friend toward debate club, determined to tease her back. She should've known it wouldn't be that easy, as Tay just laughed, smiling smugly.

''Oh, he's **more** than okay, Summer. He makes my mouthjust** water**. I mean, his eyes are so ……**intense**. And, not to be crude, but the boy is** built**. 'Greek God' comes to mind, and he's probably **very** well en…'' She did **not** want to hear the end of that sentence. No way did she** ever** want to hear the end of that sentence.

''Ew! Tay! I give, okay?'' She held up her hands demonstratively. They reached the room where debate club was meeting and exchanged a hug, the auburn-haired girl's expression victorious. ''See you at lunch.''

''See you then.''

Lunch today was ten times better than yesterday's, even with the school food. Other seniors kept coming up to their table to add their names to the petition, completing the first page on Tay's clipboard by the end of the meal. Atwood squirmed a bit at the attention, but settled down every time Tay smiled at him or touched his arm.** This** is how it should be, Summer thought to herself, as the four teens talked about the coming year, avoiding any mention of the current crises. The drama was being handled, so there was no need to **dwell** and let it sink their fun. Aside from her little petition chore this afternoon, and what it represented; senior year was going **great**. She could hardly wait for kick-off carnival so things could really get started.


	9. RyanB

**A/N: **Short and sweet takes longer than I thought, I guess. Sorry for the wait.

-- xxx –

He didn't want to be here.

The teasing he'd taken at school that morning was **nothing** to this situation. Comic club had been tolerable, barely. Zach had only gone on for five minute about the new character. His stuttering apologies when he'd found out she was based on Ryan's new girlfriend, **that** almost made up for the others' comments. Leon had started the distraction, drawing Seth into a debate over which team of heroes had the most unwieldy line-up. Everyone had gotten into the discussion, not even noticing his exit to drama club. He'd taken some shots, earlier, from Seth over the fact he had to go every day. Taylor, being more management than hands-on, could get away with one or two meetings a week; but **he** had to go if they were going to get those sets up in time for the first production.

That, and he wanted to squeeze every positive moment out of senior year, just in case. Not that he didn't have faith in his girl's plan, but if he'd learned anything, it was that nothing was certain. After all, as Trey had been found of pointing out; tomorrow you could get hit by a bus. Of course, his brother had been trying to talk him into doing something stupid; but the same philosophy should apply for something smart, right?

Regardless, he didn't want to be here.

Even Trevor's merciless teasing had been better than this. Ryan had nearly snapped at him before he realized that the guy was trying to sound him out, see if he was serious about Taylor. It was easier to take, after that. Sort of. He was just thankful the other didn't have Taryn's grabby tendencies. He was all right with the guy eyeing him….. Okay, so it'd made him twitch every time he'd caught him at it. It was a good thing their interactions were infrequent and minimal. And that he didn't have a gym class this year.

Although gym class would** still** be better than this.

Seth was spread out at the patio table, declaring that he needed to get some sketching done. Yeah, right. He knew when he was being spied on, damn it. He'd changed into his trunks and spent three or four minutes (okay, ten) trying to decide if he should be in the pool **before** Taylor got there, or wait until she arrived. Just thinking about the girl wearing the swimsuit she'd modeled for him at the mall (and he really needed to get Summer for **that** one); what she'd look like with her skin all wet and slick…….

So here he was, in the pool, wishing the first shock of the cool water would last longer than a few minutes. He was just considering climbing out to jump back in later (regaining the calming effect of cold water) when the doorbell rang. The smirking look Seth shot him as the taller boy went to answer it made him consider the benefits of manslaughter.

He **really** didn't want to be here.

Taylor had braided her hair sometime in the three hours since lunch. She had a gym bag slung over one shoulder, smiling dazzlingly at him as she stepped onto the patio. Ryan leaned his chin on his crossed forearms on the side of the pool, watching her check him out; helplessly returning the favor; despite how brainless he knew the move was. Then again, he was about to have her in his arms, soaking wet in what amounted to skin-tight underwear. Yeah, **none** of this was any too bright, really.

''You should probably get changed.'' Seth prompted her, gleefully interrupting the staring contest. The taller boy was getting far too much enjoyment out of this, Ryan decided. Smothering him with a pillow was sounding better and better by the minute.

''Sure.'' She shook herself, biting her lip as she broke eye contact with him. He swallowed a moan at the sight and shot a hard glare at his brother; nearly missing where she was headed.

''You can't change in there!'' He almost shrieked it, ignoring the snickering from the patio table as he clambered out of the pool, desperate to keep her from going into the pool house. The pool house. Where he slept, where he changed his clothes; it was his** bedroom**, for crying out loud. He did** not** need the mental image of Taylor being naked in there. He'd never get another night's sleep the rest of his life.

''Don't be silly, Ryan.'' She raised her eyebrows at him, skipping away from his grasp and opening the door. ''Why should I go all the way into the house?'' She shut the door firmly behind her, lowering the shades with a teasing smile. There was a muffled snort from the table behind him. He turned his head, glaring at the other boy out of the corner of his eyes.

''One word and they'll never find the body.'' Ryan warned him.

''You really want to be alone with your thoughts right now?'' The threat didn't even slowed the other boy down. And he had a point, damn it. He didn't need to be sitting out here with nothing to do but think of what she was doing in there. He shook his head, dispelling the mental pictures. He forced himself to turn away from the pool house. All he needed was to catch a glimpse between the blinds, or see her silhouette…..his imagination really didn't need any more fuel. He sat on the side of the pool, hanging his feet in the water and staring at the view, trying to brace himself for when she came out. He shook his head again, this time to answer the taller boy's question. 'That's what I thought. Fortunately, even minimal Seth/Ryan time is distracting.'' Seth's voice was amusedly sympathetic, and the guy apparently had more of survival instinct then he'd thought, because he changed the subject. ''So, what's with the secret promises?'' He was a little surprised that Sandy had told his son about it, but it wasn't like it was **supposed** to be a big secret.

''I promised Sandy I'd ask for help, when I need it.'' It was a little embarrassing, but he couldn't keep from glancing towards the pool house every now and then. He hoped his brother wouldn't notice.

''Okay, good to know, but I was actually talking about you and Taylor.'' The guy pointed out, shrugging when he looked over. He was tapping his pen against his paper, the glass of iced tea, the table. Sometimes he was tempted to slip his brother some pot or something; just to see if it would calm him down. He doubted it. ''Something to do with Hess?''

''You said it yesterday.'' He held the other's gaze with his, trying to convey the danger, glad there was a reason to hate the Dean that didn't make it necessary to reveal what Taylor's mother had done. ''Hess is like Oliver.'' This time is different, though, he reminded himself with an inner smile; this time his family was solidly behind him. It was a heady feeling and he let it fill him up, chasing away his fear and quieting his anger.

''Only instead of a seriously disturbed kid with abandonment issues, we've got an adult authority figure with fascist tendencies.'' Seth laid it out, nodding in appalled understanding. He grinned, suddenly, looking like he was discovering an up side. ''At least this one's not after your girlfriend.'' Ryan just raised his eyebrows significantly. His brother looked horrified as realization sunk in. ''Seriously?'' He nodded in response to the whisper. ''Jesus and Moses.''

''He was checking her out yesterday morning.'' The memory still made his stomach churn with disgust and anger. He watched his toes through the sparkling water, frowning, trying to get a handle on himself. ''I made her promise not to be alone with him.'' That calmed him: remembering that moment in the hallway, connecting with her.

''Dude, there's no way Taylor would…..oh, I get it. You're afraid she'll kick his ass if he makes a move, thereby getting tossed out.'' The other boy sipped his iced tea, shaking his head. ''Well, we have our master plan. We have, surprisingly, the support of most of the town and, most important, we have **both** Sandy Cohen and Taylor Townsend. Hess doesn't stand a chance, he…….''

His brother's pep talk was interrupted by the quiet click of an opening door from the pool house. Don't look, don't look, don't look; he warned himself. So, how are you gonna do this **without** looking at her? his mind pointed out reasonably. Slowly, he turned his head. His mind went completely blank, except for three heart felt words.

Oh my God.

At the mall, she'd been hot, every curve embraced by the gleaming fabric. That first night, she'd been stunning in that little black dress and devastating in his shirt and some sweats. Now, gazing uncertainly at him, skin glowing in the sun and suit shimmering like red paint; she stopped his heart. How was he going to teach her how to swim with her looking like** that**? He could barely breathe, his mouth was entirely dry and he was afraid to swallow, knowing he'd suck his tongue down in the attempt to moisten his throat. His eyes were going to dry out if he didn't blink and every muscle was clenched in reaction to **her**.

''Looking good, Townsend.'' Seth complimented, breaking the moment and enabling him to tear his eyes away. He couldn't **do** this. There was no way in the **world** he could do this. Just** looking** at her; he felt his self-control shake. And he was supposed to **touch** her? In the **water**?

''Thank you, Seth.'' Ryan felt his skin tingle in response to her voice. He could feel her eyes on him and lifted his to dare another look. His brain was glazing over again, but he managed to choke out her name.

''Taylor….'' He couldn't push out anything else. Nothing he was managing to think about how wonderful she was, how amazing she looked, the effect she was having on him. If she really could read his mind, now was certainly the time for it.

She came closer, holding his eyes with hers, sitting down beside him and slipping her dainty feet into the water next to his. He raked his gaze over her body with blatant appreciation, watching the doubt fade out of her eyes entirely. She started to smile at him, that sincerely happy smile that transformed her into an angel, and he felt his lips tug upwards in response. He could do anything so long as she smiled at him like that, even this. He slid into the pool, turning to place his hands on her knees with calm confidence.

''Let's do this.''

Suddenly, he didn't want to be anywhere else.


	10. JulieB

For the second time in a week, Julie Cooper-Nichol was headed towards the Cohen's for a surprise visit. Only this time, she didn't want his advice; she wanted an explanation, she **deserved** an explanation.

After their little talk Monday, she'd started looking into the matter of her education. She'd found a discreet vocational college that provided tutoring, correspondence courses; everything she'd need. Sandy's accounting investigator had slipped in through one of their temp agencies, no one else at the office even took any notice of the man's existence. He was perfectly average and wonderfully capable; he'd even slid her little hints on how to handle some of the problems she'd run into trying get things started on the new hospital. Maybe, after he was finished with this job, she should offer him something permanent? Things were going extremely well…..until she got home.

Marissa was in tears, wailing about being 'betrayed' by social committee, how Summer had 'turned' on her, that no one cared about **her**. She'd done her best to comfort her daughter, only too glad to turn what was becoming a real chore over to her ex-husband. Not that she didn't care, she loved her dearly; but she knew that things weren't as bad as the girl was making out. She had kept wanting to tell her to grow up, already. It was as if she was seeing her daughter, and everyone else, for the first time.

It had started after her divorce, this perception of the true reality around her. It had only gotten worse (or was that better?) when she'd started dating Cal. As always, there was a small pang, thinking of him. The great white misses her mate, she thought to herself wryly. Now **there** was a man to keep a girl on her toes! She'd blown it, too; she could admit that now that she was seeing clearly, thinking clearly. At the time, she'd thought all he wanted from her was sex: the fashionable arm candy for the Newport clique, the alleviation of boredom. She'd seen too late his desire for family, scrambled too clumsily to provide what he had already found, without her. She wasn't upset with Lance for putting the final nail in, now if she didn't want to be a hypocrite. She couldn't blame him for looking out for number one; not after spending so many years doing the same herself. No, what was upsetting were the things she'd discovered about her family. And about herself.

When she looked at Jimmy, now, she didn't just see her Prince Charming, the man she loved, the man who could still make her toes curl with his smile. Now, she saw the immature, spoiled person who couldn't handle any responsibility beyond himself. The little boy who clung to anyone who said they loved him, but was incapable of loving anything about **them** except the security that the relationship represented. The weak-willed, melodramatic guy who didn't believe, **really** believe, that there were consequences for his actions. Of course, he was still the sweet, considerate lover who tried to please her (outside the bedroom as well as in), the father who loved his girls so much that he was willing to lie, cheat, steal; whatever it took to make his family happy. If **his** flaws were present in their eldest, then she had to admit** hers** were as well.

'She's such a little me'. Who knew her own words would come back to haunt her?

Julie knew her own flaws, saw them without question in Marissa. The way that poor girl (Alice? Alicia? Lexus?) had been used and discarded? And don't even get me started on the yard guy, she thought to herself bleakly. That cold manipulation of one's lovers, she knew that: fought against being that bitch every day. All she had to do was think of how badly she'd used poor Luke and she knew she'd failed, at least once. Her daughter, apparently, didn't even try. It wasn't until she'd talked to Kaitlyn that she'd realized exactly what shape Marissa's game had taken. The poor little rich girl who needed to be rescued and taken care of. A ploy almost **guaranteed** to pull a guy like Ryan in and wrap him up tight in his own flaws, bringing out all the worst in his personality until their mutual imperfections destroyed them both.

She had to admit, the first thing she'd felt when they'd broken up, that night, was relief. She'd thought it was because of his background, but the later conversation with her youngest had opened her eyes to that relationship, and all it's dangers; especially for Kiki's adopted son. For someone who'd been through what that young man had, who gave his trust so reluctantly, his love so hesitantly (understandably so); the betrayal of his affections by the lady he loved would've killed him. He would've turned himself into a little Cal, hard and heartless; with only the Cohen's allowed close, but not inside.

Julie had seen it starting, the night he'd rescued Kaitlyn; the wall behind his eyes, closing off his heart from the rest of the world. There was still a little of the pain she'd seen the night of the break-up visible; the soul-deep wound of being in love with someone incapable of loving you back couldn't be hidden from someone with the same experience. The only chance to heal it lay in the impossible that only Sandy and Kiki had accomplished. Her biggest fear was that he'd try and get back together with Marissa, try and heal the rift inside him with the girl he thought of as his first real love. But she knew it wasn't love, that it hadn't ever been. It was hardly surprising he didn't know better, though, considering that her oldest girl was the only relationship he'd ever had that lasted longer than a couple of hook-ups.

Did the kids still use that term, hook-up? She'd have to ask Kaitlyn. She smiled with pride at the thought of her youngest girl. If Marissa was a merging of her parent's flaws, cold-heartedly manipulative; then her sister was their virtues, with her own brilliant, sparkling flare.

She'd put the problem of her daughter's love life on the back burner, content to let Jimmy handle the girl while keeping tabs on the boy through her co-chair, Sandy. That was; until she started hearing the rumors during lunch Tuesday, about some mysterious parent trying to get Ryan expelled. Her post as prime suspect wasn't what was surprising; she'd spent two years tearing the boy down to whomever would listen, after all. What was shocking her was the support he seemed to have, the angry and hateful looks the Newpsies (Sandy certainly had a way with words) kept sending her.

By Friday, Julie had had enough of the people in town coming up and telling her stories of the young man's greatness. There was, apparently, a petition going around. Well, whatever reasons Sandy had for not giving her the opportunity to sign it (and thereby prove her innocence) were going to have to be good ones. She was going to sign that petition, and then she was going to have a conversation with Sandy and his ward about second chances; and how people could change. Maybe she'd offer her help first, **then** demand her explanation. Turning off the engine, she checked her appearance one last time before climbing out and heading towards the front door.

The most ridiculous of the rumors had been the one about her and Kiki's husband. She remembered when Taryn had confronted her on it, desperate for dirt on Newport's only stable couple. She'd laughed herself sick, too hysterical at the thought of **that **man cheating on his wife to take offense on her own behalf. It had worked, though, better than any rant she'd ever used, before. She'd have to remember that tactic, next time she had an **actual** affair to hide. Smiling, she rang the bell.

''Julie?'' It was Sandy, again, and she couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her face. Even if Kiki hadn't been her best friend it was just too ludicrous. Those eyebrows being just one of the many, many reasons. ''Everything okay?'' His grey eyes were concerned, maybe a little distracted. Well, she was going to help. He deserved a little help, for all he and his had tried to do for her family.

''Apparently not.'' She informed him, striding past him into the foyer; still a little hurt he obviously hadn't thought to ask her for her assistance, not even her signature. She could see movement on the patio, probably the second half of her target audience. ''You and your son and I need to talk.'' She headed for the French doors, wondering why the lights were off.

''Now's not a good time.'' He still shut the door behind her, coming down the steps to try and intercept her. Looking reluctant and dropping his voice a little, he caught her arm just as they reached the open doors. ''His girlfr…..''

''Hush.'' Julie whispered, caught by the scene before her. ''Let's not interrupt.''

Out on the patio, Seth was fiddling with a screen and slideshow-type setup. Summer was leading an auburn-haired girl by both hands, walking backwards to guide her across the deck. This was necessary, as Ryan had his hands over the girl's eyes, walking nearly on her heels as they moved towards his brother. All four teens were wearing jeans; Seth and Ryan in t-shirts (some obscure band on green and blank red, respectively) and sneakers while the girls wore cute little pastel tops (without sleeves) and sandals. They were all smiling, and she held up her finger in front of her lips to keep Sandy from revealing her presence. She wanted to see if any of what her daughter had been saying about this girl was even remotely true.

Unless she missed her guess, this was Ryan's new girlfriend, Taylor Townsend.

''….it's something to do with Atomic County, isn't it?'' Taylor was saying. The other three stopped, Summer dropping the girl's hands to plant hers on her hips. ''A new character, perhaps?'' The girl's tone was smugly hopeful as she, apparently, guessed what the other's were trying to surprise her with.

''Taylor!'' Summer protested; stamping her foot, looking upset the surprise had been ruined. Ryan was laughing, lifting his hands away from his girlfriend's face.

''I warned you.'' His hands settled on Taylor's shoulders, and Julie drew an amazed breath when the girl turned her head to look at him, smiling. She hadn't thought much of the girl's looks when he'd lifted his hands away; but that smile …….a smile Ryan was returning, expression tender. Julie let her breath out slowly, observing the way they gazed at each other.

''Well, it may not be a surprise, but we still have an origin to do.'' Seth interrupted, holding up the remote to the projector. ''You ready to meet your alter ego?'' The girl in question nodded enthusiastically, clutching her hands together under her chin as she practically vibrated with excitement. ''Okay. Once upon a time, in the glittering skies over Atomic County…''

Julie watched the three tell the story of a lonely girl who just wanted to help people, ignored and misunderstood by even her mother; who found friends by a sequence of happy accidents. She watched, not missing a nuance, seeing the easy, comfortable why they stood together, aware of each other in a way that was heartbreakingly familiar. She was hit with a sense of **right**ness, of witnessing something beautiful being born; the way she'd felt when she'd seen the sun rise over the ocean for the first time. The way she'd felt when she'd first met her neighbors, the Cohen's.

''It's wonderful!'' Taylor was clapping her hands, bouncing in place a little. She saw Ryan check the girl out as she went over and hugged Seth; who froze and patted her on the arms uncomfortably. ''I can't believe you put me in your comic book!'' The girl was hugging Summer, now, who returned the gesture a lot more easily than Seth had. Julie was a little resentful of the brunette, until she remembered the screaming match she'd overheard. Something about a missed birthday and lousy taste in boys? Seth and Summer were a**dor**able; that same sense of right hung about them as clung to the other two teens.

''Of course, I put **all** my friends in it.'' The tall boy smirked self depreciatingly. ''That's why there's so few characters.'' Julie saw Taylor whirl around, obviously about to argue with him, when Ryan spoke up, stepping forward.

''Don't I get one of those?''

He had a hopeful, eager expression, holding his arms out in entreaty. He wanted a hug? It didn't really fit with what she knew of him, but it absolutely fit with what she was seeing, tonight.

Taylor flowed into the boy's arms, settling her head onto his shoulder like she belonged there. Julie saw him enfold her in his embrace, closing his eyes with a look of pure happiness as they settled into each other. She turned away, missing Seth's sure to be snide comment, but hearing him yelp (Summer must've disciplined him). She didn't want to witness anymore. Envious tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked, hard, until they went away.

''I tried to tell you.'' Sandy was there, holding out a glass of water. ''If it helps, they've only been going out for about a week.'' She resisted the urge to smack him for his assumptions, reminding herself that he really didn't know her that well. Of course he would think she was upset that her daughter had been 'replaced', he didn't know about her new perceptions. Taylor may have only been going out with him for a week, but she already had more of Ryan than Marissa ever had; that much was obvious to Julie from even the little she'd seen tonight.

''I'm not upset he's found someone, Sandy.'' She cleared her throat, sipping her water to steady the surge of jealousy. No, it wasn't her daughter's love life she was upset over. ''I'm hurt.'' The ridiculous, climbing eyebrows made her smile; if it was a trifle sadly, he'd chalk it up to her next words. ''Even if I didn't owe him for Kaitlyn, I still would've signed the petition. I'm not petty enough to begrudge him his chance at a future because he broke up with my daughter.'' She couldn't bring herself to say that he'd broken Marissa's heart, not when she didn't believe that he'd had her heart in the first place. The break up had been far more devastating to that boy than it had her eldest, she admitted that, no matter how bitter the admission was.

''I'm sorry we left you out of it, Julie.'' Sandy shook his head, grey eyes troubled as he brought her up to date on the situation. It was a relief to finally be trusted with the truth of what was going on, a relief to finally have a clear picture of the current landscape. She couldn't help a flinch (thankfully, only internal) when she compared Taylor's reaction to what her daughter would've likely done. Whining, crying; probably some Julie-blaming thrown in for good measure. Begging her father to 'do something'. In short, nothing productive. ''I think Summer left the petition …..ah!''

She signed the paper, making her co-chairman promise to call her if there was anything else she could do. She paused on her way through the living room, taking one last look at the patio. Ryan had Taylor over his shoulder, heading towards the pool, ignoring her fists thumping him in the back. The girl's protests would've been more effective if she hadn't been giggling. Seth and Summer were wrestling near a deck chair; the taller boy appeared to be losing as she turned away, the squeals and laughter prodding her towards the door, Julie gave Kiki's husband her best** friendly** smile, swearing to see him at the board hearing and wishing him luck with the whole mess. The envy flared up again as she drove away. The Cohen's ward had done what she couldn't seem to, what she'd thought was categorically impossible to achieve.

Ryan Atwood had found true love.


	11. Marissa

**A/N: **This one's for Simbagirl (sp?) who wondered what was wrong w/Marissa's little head. I'm thinking: a lot. (kudos to those who can spot where I stole **that** line).

As always, not making any money, just trying to have fun and feed my review addiction.

-- xxx –

The son of a bitch had the **nerve** to look happy.

Marissa stood in the narrow aisle between two game booths, glaring across the walkway to where Ryan stood, rolling a baseball around between his palms. He doesn't **deserve** to be happy, she thought bitterly, watching him wind up and throw. The little whore he was with jumped up and down and clapped her hands as the bottles tumbled to the ground. God, if she'd known he liked immature little babies, she would've introduced him to some of Kaitlyn's friends. She had to remember to warn Dad to keep him away from her sister, if squealing little brats were his type now. He put his arm around the shoulders of the girl, nodding to the guy in the booth when the skank pointed out a stupid-looking blue bear. It was small, about the size of a cantaloupe, and it wasn't even** smiling**.

Unlike the two of them.

She turned away from the sight, stomach churning and fists clenching. She didn't want to see them gazing sappily at each other **again**. How was anyone at this stupid carnival keeping their food down with those two simpering at each other? It was disgusting. Marissa found a quiet spot near the Ferris Wheel, sitting on the ground and pulling out a joint. Where had the plan gone wrong? She asked herself, lighting up. School started in two days, and the boy who'd ruined every good thing about her life was **Still** **Here**.

Her blood still boiled when she remembered how he'd played her for two years, pretending to be nice, pretending to** care**. She hadn't caught on to how manipulative he was until recently, not even the night they'd broken up had given her a clue. And where did **he **get off, breaking up with her? That wasn't his decision to make, it was **hers**. Several times over the summer, she'd thought about calling him, getting back together. Each time, she'd remembered how much fun Ryan **wasn't,** how much of a buzz kill he could be. The summer was supposed to be fun. Fall semester was soon enough to get him back, she'd decided. Meanwhile, she'd taken fierce joy in hearing how miserable he was, how he never went anywhere or did anything. He deserved to be unhappy, she thought, inhaling deeply. He still fucking **does**.

If he hadn't showed up, she would still be with Luke. She never would've overdosed in TJ and, without the added stress, her parents would have stayed together. Caleb would never have married her mother, Hailey would never have seduced her Dad. Trey would never have come here to steal things, try to rape her, and get involved with drug dealers. Stupid Theresa would never have had a baby to miscarry, or at least, she wouldn't have had the nerve to involve decent people (like the Cohen's) in her telenovela life. That family would've been better off without **him**, too.

Caleb would never have had a heart attack without Ryan burning down the development and banging his daughter. Lindsay would have stayed, getting all the things Ryan was selfishly hoarding for **himself** (a first-rate education, a rich family). Kirsten would never have started drinking if the boy hadn't chased her sister (however illegitimate) out of town with his perversions. Sandy wouldn't be trying to steal the Newport Group away from her Dad and the two men would be friends, not rivals. Even Seth would be with Anna, where he** belonged**, instead of stepping out of his place to poison her **best friend** against her.

Poor Summer. If there was a true innocent anywhere in this mess, it was her friend. Sum liked to be the nice one, the one people said 'had a big heart'. She'd been counting on that Monday, when she'd staked out the diner for her friend's traditional pre-registration breakfast. Some groveling, and she'd be back in, back to where she could met out the much-deserved punishment of making Ryan's life miserable.

She'd never expected him to use the 'new girlfriend' tactic.

It was brilliant, really, especially** who** he'd picked for the role. The only way it could have been more of a slap to the face was if he'd been pretending to date Summer. She supposed he hadn't because Seth wasn't **that** good of an actor,** nor** would Sum have gone along with **that** little scheme. She bet the only way the brunette was in on **this** one was that Seth was using sex to gain her cooperation. She remembered sophomore year, hearing her friend complain about the boy's 'strike'. It was sick and twisted, what he'd done to the people around him. Which makes his 'new girl' a perfect match, she thought sardonically. She's such a **freak**.

Taylor Townsend. Even after a week, it still sounded like some kind of nightmare. He probably hadn't had to convince her very hard, Marissa mused, flicking some ash away from the dwindling joint. Whatever **she** had, Taylor wanted. And, with the shit that bitch had **made up** during that first, disastrous, social committee meeting; it looked like she was going to get it. Even the thought that the girl **more** than deserved whatever he was going to do to her didn't ease the pain of what had happened Tuesday.

Of course, the day hadn't been **all** bad.

She'd been running late, slowing as she'd heard the laughter from the meeting room. One peek was all it took to see that the stupid slut had wasted** no** time in taking over, stealing her friends as well as her position as social chair. She'd run, wanting to get away from the treasonous, hateful atmosphere. That's when she'd met him, crying behind the bleachers near the pool. A **real** good guy, someone who completely understood how dangerous Ryan was, to everyone. Just like her father had, a couple of weeks after the breakup; he'd promised to do all he could to get the son of a bitch his just deserts. He'd given her his number, telling her to call if she ever needed anything, anything at all. A promise he'd kept, the next three nights, when she wanted to bury the horror of what she'd just found out in mindless pleasure.

Marissa didn't know how Ryan had done it, but somehow, her mother was making a play for Sandy Cohen. She knew her mother had a thing about needing a man to take care of her, but this was more than pathetic, it was disastrous. What did she need Sandy for, anyway? The woman had James Cooper, her ex-husband, her true love! Was the little back stabbing bitch from Chino **really** so desperate for a mother figure he had to steal hers? Not that Julie Cooper-Nichol was any great prize, but goddam it; what was he thinking?

''Marissa?'' She twitched, looking around, but no one was near her.

''Yeah.'' That was **his **voice. She'd always thought that 'speak of the devil' thing was a saying, but there he was, standing at the rail for the Ferris Wheel, just a few feet away from her smoking spot. She tossed the stub of her joint towards the edge of the pier, listening; peeking up through the rail at him and the slut holding his hand.

''You had your first kiss here, right?'' The girl had that stupid bear tucked into her purse, it's solemn little face staring over the zipper at her. She stuck her tongue out at it.

''Stuck on the top. She was trying to distract me.'' Marissa was confused. What audience were they playing for? No one else was in earshot. Could they have seen her, after all? No, there was no way either **one** of them would pass up the chance to humiliate her again. Ryan sighed, shaking his head, and directed his unfocused gaze towards the ocean. ''Sometimes I think we were still trapped up there, trying to recapture that perfect moment.'' She smiled, seeing the uncertain look on Taylor's face. Get used to it, she thought gleefully at the girl. The guy's a relationship retard. No matter what he promises you, he'll always let you down.

''Ours was a dare in the Cohen's kitchen.'' His whore whispered, fingering the dumb bear's head like she needed reassurance. ''Not even **close** to perfect.''

''It doesn't **have** to be perfect.'' He turned to the girl, cupping her face with his free hand. Fury filled her, watching his profile. How **dare** he look at the skank so tenderly, so reverent in his affection? When he'd **never** looked at **her** like that? Asshole. ''It just has to be **right**.'' She wanted to jump up and break his neck as he kissed the bitch; right there in front of her, right there next to **their** special place. God, he was such a shit; what had she ever seen in him? Aside from being unbelievably hot, he wasn't much.

''Eww!'' She couldn't agree more with her friend, glad that Sum's approach broke the lip lock. Marissa didn't know how much more of **that** she would've been able to take. ''I** so** don't need to see that.''

''We feel the same way about you and Seth.'' Ryan turned, putting his back to her with his hand in the small of the little slut's back. She felt the urge to vomit when she saw the girl smile up at him dopily.

''So, I feel the need to go in circles, **really** slow.'' Seth was saying, rubbing his stomach. ''Anyone for the carousel?''

A carousel? How lame. She turned away from the departing foursome, pulling out her cell phone. She'd had enough of this shit. It was time to do something, and she had the perfect idea. She sucked in a couple deep, heaving breaths, so that her voice was shaky and gasping when the line picked up.

''Jack?''


	12. TaylorB

**A/N: **It's been far too many years since I was at a carnival, myself. Hope the description of the rides is somewhere close to accurate.

-- xxx –

Taylor squealed happily, shifting her body weight with Summer's so that the Tilt A Whirl spun even faster. Her friend laughed, leaning shoulder to shoulder with her. The girls giggled in unison as the ride went through another rotation, spinning wildly as they leaned in the other direction. Somewhere in the blur of faces, the boys were watching them, holding their drinks. She'd never had so much fun in her whole life as she was having tonight. She felt dizzy from more than just the ride, remembering.

_-- flashback –_

_''Will you go to kick-off carnival with me?'' The question cut through her concentration, making her look behind her. _

_''What?'' Taylor blinked at the boy, hazel eyes checking him over to see if he'd had a head injury. He had his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, lips quirked into that beautiful little smile, blue sparkling at her surprised expression. ''I thought we were all going together. You, me, Seth, and Summer.'' She reminded him, turning away to make another notation on her clipboard. Setting up for carnival was almost as much of a hassle as planning it. This year, though, it would totally be worth it. This year, she would be going with __**friends**_

_''I just wanted to ask.'' Ryan had stepped closer; so close behind her now, she could feel his breath ruffling her hair. He lifted some away from her neck to hang down her back, making her skin tingle where his fingers brushed. ''Not take anything for granted.'' She looked over her shoulder at him, seeing the hope in his gaze. Maybe she wasn't the only one thinking of this as their 'first official date'. Maybe she wasn't the only one eager, the only one nervous. _

_''Yes.'' Of course, being her, she didn't stop with that. She wanted him to know how emphatically she was agreeing. No matter how much of a ditz she sounded. ''Underlined, calligraphied, with exclamation points and large print and emoticons and ……'' His chuckle shifted her bangs, his finger tapped her nose gently. _

_''Yes it is.'' His smile blotted out the sun. _

_-- end flashback –_

''It's nice to have someone to go on rides with who doesn't whine like a little bitch.'' Summer was saying as they staggered loopily to the exit of the Tilt A Whirl. ''Or vomit.'' The girl shuddered in an exaggerated manner, dark eyes locked on the two figures waiting for them at the rail.

''I love you too, sweetie.'' Seth smirked, holding out his girlfriend's green tea. Summer took the bottle, sipping, adjusting the purse slung across her chest. Taylor did the same, moving the little bag to settle against her hip, instead of her abdomen, where it had shifted.

Ryan was silent, expression amused as she swayed a bit. He steadied her, hand cold from holding her Sobe. He handed it to her, putting his palm against her back to support her. He'd done that a lot, tonight, finding little excuses to touch her. A fire lit in her belly every time he did, warming her. Their group found a good spot to stand for a moment, just between the rides and the entertainment stages. Twirling flames from the juggler (who used torches as part of his act's climax) made her eyes spot, so she shifted her gaze to her friends.

Both boys were wearing jeans and sneakers, Seth with a blue and red horizontally striped jersey over a collared shirt and Ryan with a black t-shirt and his new denim jacket. She was thinking she might have to borrow the jacket, later, having chosen to wear a green summer dress with shoulder straps instead of the other girl's more practical outfit of chinos and long-sleeved top. It was a date, though, and she'd wanted to look beautiful for her** boyfriend**. Who knew there was a dress code? Any self-consciousness Taylor had from being the only one in a dress vanished every time his blue eyes landed on her, roaming over her body with obvious appreciation. Not that she didn't appreciate** his** appearance. He should wear black more often, she decided, it brought out his eyes.

''My turn to choose.'' Seth declared as the juggler finished his act. ''I say we go see that sword eating guy again. Anyone with that many tattoos is worth a second look.''

''You're so weird, Cohen.'' Summer tossed her empty bottle away, shrugging. ''Makes no diff to me. Tay?''

''I think I just want to walk around for a bit.'' She discarded her own empty, scanning the crowd. There it was again, that feeling of being watched. You're being paranoid, she told herself. ''I still feel a little dizzy. Too much sensory stimulation.'' She blushed as the two brunettes laughed, her boyfriend politely bit his lip against a grin and looked away. ''I didn't mean that how it sounded.'' She mumbled.

''Whatev.'' Summer hugged her, eyes mischievous. ''Don't do anything I wouldn't do, you two.''

''Doesn't leave much, Roberts.'' Ryan tossed off as the others made their way through the crowd. He turned concerned blue eyes to her, touching her shoulder. ''You okay?''

''Sure.'' Except when you touch me, she thought. I'm fine until those sparks go shooting all over. He must've picked up on her qualifier, because he didn't look convinced. Or maybe he just didn't want to take his hand off her shoulder. ''Really, I'm good.'' She took his hand in hers, squeezing reassuringly.

They lost a few minutes, gazing at each other. Sap time, Seth had dubbed it. Like he and Summer didn't spend **hours** snuggling on the Cohen's couch. The thought that she and Ryan might be doing that, someday soon, made her swallow thickly. His eyes darkened, his hand tightening as he stepped forward. Someone bumped into him, just then, breaking the mood. He kept his fingers twined with hers, more gently, as they turned to move through the crowd. People actually waved to her, some of them stopped to talk to her or her guy. Except for the occasionally recurring sense of someone watching her, it was wonderful.

''Girl like that deserves a prize!'' One of the barkers was shouting at them, trying to encourage Ryan to play his game. ''C'mon fella, win your little lady a little something; make her night, right honey?'' The way the man gazed at her made her feel creepy and exposed. She felt her guy's fingers twitch, she looked up to see his smile turn dark for a split second.

''Sure thing, pal.'' That wasn't his friendly voice, though he didn't seem mad or anything. Taylor hoped there wasn't about to be a scene, as her boyfriend laid his dollar on the counter. He picked up one of the balls, tossing it lightly, then let fly in a blur of motion. Bottles fell to the ground; one or two of them bounced. She gasped excitedly, starting to smile. Oh, this was going to be **fun**. The barker frowned, suddenly not so happy, as the blonde boy threw the second ball, scattering the next pyramid of plastic bottles. She clapped her hands, cheering him on, as he rolled the final ball between his palms, eyes locked with the barker. She jumped up and down, unable to contain her delight at his victory, watching the third pyramid of bottles rolling across the floor of the booth. Ryan put his arm confidently across her shoulders, still looking at the man behind the counter. ''Which one do you want?''

''Oh!'' She started looking over the stuffed animals, trying to find the perfect one to commemorate this moment, this magical night. Halfway across the back was a little bear, his fur the exact color of Ryan's eyes, his plush expression almost brooding. She pointed and, at her guy's nod, the barker retrieved it with a long stick, extending it towards her. She clutched it to her, smiling at her date as they moved away from the game. She giggled, hugging the bear. ''That was so mean.'' She told the boy next to her, securing the toy in her purse. The little head poked up, like those tiny dogs some celebrities carried around.

''Ah, he'll make it back.'' He shrugged, unconcerned with the fate of the gamesman. ''Ten more guys'll try now that I've shown it can be done. That's the way those things work.''

He still hadn't taken his arm from around her, and she daringly put hers around his waist, hooking her thumb through a belt loop on the far side. He smiled peripherally down at her and she felt her heart soaring. The heady feeling filled her up, carrying her through the crowd like a dandelion fluff blown by the wind. Until they came to a stop in front of a rail, back in the section set aside for the rides. She felt her stomach swirl unpleasantly for the first time that evening (despite all the junk food she'd consumed with Summer, earlier) as he took his arm from around her. He stared blankly at the Ferris Wheel, watching it go in circles with a set, unhappy expression.

''Marissa?'' She asked, watching him carefully, twining her fingers into his, giving comfort the only way she could.

''Yeah.'' Her heart sank a bit, knowing she could never compete with a girl he considered his first love. Having seen them interact over the past two years, she knew it hadn't been love. There was no way she was going to **say** that, though. He had to realize it for himself.

He might be well on the way, Taylor thought, hearing no remorse or wistfulness in his tone as he talked about his ex. He could very well have been talking about the weather, his voice devoid of any deeper emotion. Until, that is, she talked about **their** kiss; uncertain how she compared to the other (far more experienced) girls he'd been involved with. The look in his blue eyes as he faced her, the way his voice made her insides melt, the fireworks that went off behind her eyes when he kissed her: all of it dispersed her doubts like water on a griddle. Even Summer's interruption couldn't dim her mood.

The four stood in line for the carousel, Ryan's arm firm around her waist, like he didn't want to let her go. They sat on a bench carved out of the back of a giant swan, facing the horses their friends had chosen. It felt good, cuddled against him, feet curled up on the seat next to her. It felt, like he'd said earlier, **right**. Seth's antics, pretending to chase them on his purple pony, made her smile, made the other girl shake her head with tolerant affection. Their two friends got off after the first rotation, but she asked her boyfriend for more cycles, wanting to go slowly around and around forever. Finally, though, they had to get off. It was later than she'd thought, drifting in circles; wrapped in his arms, she'd entered a comfortable, dream-like state that was fading into her growing unease. The thinning crowds gave her a strange, despairing chill; colder than the night air. And that sensation of being watched was back.

''Cold?'' He was already half out of his jacket, seeing her shiver. She nodded, trying to find their unseen audience, as he settled the cloth over her shoulders. ''Want to go?'' She nodded again, clutching the fabric closed with one hand, holding his hand with the other. She felt unsettled, disturbed by the continuing feeling of being observed. ''Everything alright?'' Taylor looked into his blue eyes, seeing the uncertain, troubled expression. He was worried she wasn't having a good time, she saw, worried their 'date' wasn't going well. She tugged, pulling him behind a booth bordering the parking lot.

''I think someone's watching us.'' She felt stupid, saying it, peering over his shoulder to see behind him; but she couldn't let him think she wasn't having the **best** night. Ryan frowned, aiming his gaze over his other shoulder; then turned back to her with a comforting smile. ''Seriously.'' She insisted, letting go his hand to adjust the jacket over her shoulders.

''It might have something to do with how you're dressed.'' He murmured, voice husky with appreciation. All thoughts of some nefarious person trying to follow them flew out of her head with the look he gave her. Ryan stepped into her personal space, brushing the back of one hand down her cheek, making her tremble. ''You look amazing.'' He whispered, gripping her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger; lowering his lips to hers.

Kissing him was like kissing sunshine. Warm and gentle, with a forceful, fiery energy just underneath the sparkling delight of the soft, golden touch. He slid his right hand around to cup her head, deepening the kiss, gripping the chain link over her shoulder with his left. She wrapped her arms around his ribs, opening her mouth eagerly to his probing tongue, returning the expression of his desire with equal fervor. His body pressed hers against the fence, making it chime in reaction. She moaned, tilting her head back, letting him drag his hot mouth down her neck, nibbling at her skin.

''That's enough.'' Pain flared around her left forearm, someone yanked her stumbling away from Ryan, his jacket falling unnoticed to the ground. Startled, Taylor glanced up into the cold blue eyes of Jack Hess. ''Are you okay, Miss Townsend?'' She **had** been, until he showed up. What the heck was going on? ''Keep your distance, Atwood.'' The man warned, pulling her after him as he stepped backwards. ''She's coming with me.'' His smile was cold, calculating, and the look he gave her ……. Fear pricked her skin, quenching the fire the younger man had awakened.

''No, I'm not.'' She protested, trying to free her arm. His grip tightened and she gasped at the flare of pain.

''Let her go!'' Ryan yelled, fists clenching. She saw the fury on his face and was terrified for him, for what could happen if he lost his temper.

Concern for him gave her strength, cleared her head from worrying about her own danger. She planted her feet, turning towards the man holding her, shoving the heel of her right hand into his solar plexus with all the force of her swiveling body behind it. Gasping, he released her, stumbling back a step. His face went completely blank, giving her no warning at all when he back-handed her to the ground. She dimly heard an animal roar, head throbbing from the force of Hess' blow. It sounded like there was an ocean washing up around her, noise surrounding her. Raising her hazel eyes, she saw Ryan pushing himself upright astride khaki-clad legs, left hand fisted in the taller blonde's pastel shirt as he punched downwards, a look of blackest fury filling his expression. He punched again, and her body went cold with horror.

''Stop!'' She reached a hand towards him, standing on wobbly legs, certain he was going to kill the guy. He looked up, blue eyes nearly black with fear and hate. He looked down, and shoved himself convulsively away from the older man, scrabbling clumsily backwards. The Dean sat up, wiping blood off his lip with the back of his hand. He was smiling, triumphant.

''Not even a week.'' He crowed, standing. The man looked around, waving his hand to the crowd dismissively. ''Nothing to see here, people; nothing to concern students **attending** Harbor.'' The implied threat was heavy in his voice, most of the crowd dispersed, shooting concerned looks over their shoulders as they left. Ryan seemed paralyzed, staring up at the man he'd attacked with the eyes of a child. ''Go home, Atwood. Set foot on school property again, and I'll have you arrested.'' He actually turned and strolled casually away, **whistling**.

''Oh my God.'' Summer's gasp was almost inaudible among the babble of voices around them. Taylor focused on the two brunettes, going over to them.

''Take him home.'' She ordered Seth, indicating the boy behind her with a tilt of her head. She smiled somewhat wateringly at them both, trying to project her normal confidence, mind racing with possibilities. She took the other girl's hand, tugging gently. ''Come on, I've got a plan.'' Hate for the bastard who'd ruined the night (and, possibly, Ryan's future) fueled her; sparking her brain into overdrive. Her attempts to control her anger by thinking Gallic led to several words not found in any reputable French-English dictionary.

And if she **ever** found out who'd tipped Hess off to her boyfriend's weak spot (protecting people he cared about), they had better hope the space program started shipping civilians to live on the moon; because there wouldn't be a place on **Earth** for them to hide.


	13. SethB

**A/N: **Little short, sorry. Hey, this is the thirteenth chapter to this story. Pretty appropriate, no?

-- xxx –

''Take him home.'' Seth nodded convulsively, horrified eyes locked on his brother. This was bad, he thought; this was very, very bad. There was no **way** Despot Dean wasn't going to use this in the hearing, tomorrow. He clung to his faith in their father and in the bright new star to Ryan's sky, Taylor Townsend, one-girl miracle maker. And she has Summer with her, he thought. He felt minutely better. Not much, but vomit was no longer an imminent danger.

The young man in question was still sitting on the ground, although he **had** moved up from his crab-like position to lay his forearms on his knees. He was staring contemplatively at his right hand, the smear of blood from Hess' face still wet across his knuckles. Gross, was the taller boy's first thought. Bad sign was the second, as he approached his brother without causing any reaction. He'd gotten used to the guy being hyper aware of everything and everyone around him; being able to sneak up on him was unsettling.

''Hey, dude.'' The other boy twitched in shock when he put a hand on his shoulder, looking up at Seth with dilated eyes, lost eyes. Oh, sweet Mary and Ruth, this was bad. Not Mom going to rehab bad, but **bad**. He looked like he was just about to give up, like part of him already had.

''Seth.'' He sounds exhausted, Seth thought bleakly; he sounds like he's trying to make sense of reality. He would like some sense to his reality, his own self. What the hell had happened? Ryan was more controlled than this, was **smarter** than this. So what had happened?

''Yeah, that's me.'' He tugged on the t-shirt, looking around for the jacket his brother had been wearing. ''C'mon, get up, we've got to go.'' Obediently, the other clambered up, moving slow and clumsy. Uh-oh. The blonde boy brushed at his jeans, wiping his bloody hand absently across his stomach, leaving a darker black streak in the fabric. His stomach was glad his friend was wearing black, any other color and he probably would've puked to see the red stain. He was very nearly puking now, now that he was thinking past his shock to realize what was going on, what was likely to happen tomorrow. ''Where's your jacket?'' At the other's dazed expression, he started looking around on the ground. ''The denim thing? The one your girlfriend picked out for you?''

''Taylor.'' That got him. He was looking more awake and aware, now; scanning the crowds. Seth saw the blue crumbled against the fence and went over, picking up the jacket and brushing at it. His brother's eyes were worried, he was turning in little circles. ''Where's Taylor?'' Damn, but **that** was another bad sign; that Ryan didn't remember her leaving. Usually, he never missed a chance to watch the girl walk away. Summer said she had a great butt, which he took her word for. Right now, he'd better speak up before the guy took off, looking for her. Or Hess called the cops. His stomach clenched.

''General Townsend has everything well in hand, mon frere.'' Seth watched his friend relax a bit, taking the jacket from his nervous hands and slipping into it; still moving slow and carefully, damn it all. He was starting to get a little ticked off at the older man. Was expelling his brother **really** that important, that he'd be willing to risk the wrath of Townsend? And he meant both, because no **way** Veronica was going to back off the guy who'd marked up her daughter's face. ''We have been ordered to make a strategic withdrawal, so let's get a move on.''

He chattered aimlessly, going over all the rides Summer had gone on, all the food they'd eaten, all the fun they'd had; ushering the guy into the car with a heavy heart. He **wanted** to have faith, he wanted to be **confident**; but he just didn't see** how** this was going to work out. Even Superman lost a battle, every now and again: could this be Sandy Cohen's Doomsday? He started the vehicle, pulling out of the parking lot, still trying to boost his spirits, and his brother's, with his meandering speech.

''Seth.'' He glanced over, seeing the clenched jaw, the fingers tight on the door handle. Ryan didn't look mad, though, he looked sick. Oh no, he looked **sick**. ''I think….''

''Right.'' Checking his mirrors, the taller boy swerved to the side of the road, popping the door release. Moses and Christ, this was worse than he thought. If his friend was worried enough to be nauseous ……..this was a guy who faced down Julie Cooper-Nichol and water polo jocks and his Grandpa and Chino thugs with nary a twinge. The situation had to be cata**clys**mic to garner this result. Unpleasant noises came from the open passenger door, making him swallow against his own reaction. The other climbed back into the car, looking more unsettled than when he'd left; using the excuse of fiddling with the door and his seatbelt to avoid meeting his eyes. ''Everything come out okay?'' He saw his brother's mouth barely twitch at the trademark Cohen inappropriate comment. They rode in silence for a few minutes before the guy spoke, chilling the car to nearly sub-zero temperatures with his words.

''I wanted to kill him.'' Seth gripped the steering wheel, not daring to say anything. What could he say? His passenger sighed, sounding resigned and ashamed, all at once. ''I think I still do.''

''Yeah, but you didn't, and Dad'll handle this and Taylor has one of her plans; you'll see, this'll all blow over and we'll go to school Monday and laugh about how retro you went over the weekend, punching people…..'' He knew he was rambling, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to find a way out of this mess, wanted things to go back to normal. Or, this being Orange County, as normal as thing could ever get.

''I've never wanted to kill anyone before.'' He snorted in disbelief, finally causing Ryan to look at him. His brother was serious, which was weird. How could he have gone through the life he had without wanting to kill anyone? ''I mean it. I may have wanted some guys dead. AJ….'' His voice trailed off at the mention of his mother's ex and Seth wanted to round up that guy, and anyone else, who lay behind that flat look in his friend's eyes. ''I just never wanted to **kill** anyone before.'' He wasn't sure if he should be relieved at the statement, or worried. Worried, he decided, as the other boy continued to speak. ''I just saw her, lying there…….'' There was rage in his face, his fists clenching around the seatbelt. The gaze that focused on his own face was harshly demanding. ''You're sure she was…..''

''Dude, she was **pissed**.'' Seth saw his brother misinterpret the statement and shook his head hurriedly. ''Not at you; at Dean Despot.'' There was an actual grin that flitted across Ryan's face and he felt a little better, himself, at the thought of what Taylor was capable of. And if her mother got involved…… He would've felt some human sympathy for the faculty member. Provided the guy had been human. ''If I was that guy, I'd be packing my bags and heading for TJ. Or Bangkok. Mars, maybe.'' The laugh sounded forced, but it was a laugh. ''You just have to ask yourself one question.'' They pulled up to the house, engine falling silent as he turned to his brother. ''How much do you trust Taylor?'' The remark hit home, the guy reared back, blinking; eyes clearing a little from the ghosts that had filled them. ''C'mon, let's get this over with.'' Telling their Dad about the night's events wasn't going to be anywhere** close** to pleasant, he knew. Best to get it done quickly. The two boys went in the door, stopping dead in the foyer, frozen in complete shock by the figure rising from the couch. Seth shook it off first, charging across the floor to fling his arms around her.

''Mom!''

_-- roll credits—_

**A/N 2: **See you next story! (ducks under the desk)


End file.
